Yesterday Noelle came running to me upset. “Waaah! He isn’t turning off! Throw him and my zhu zhu pet in the garbage!” After a few more dramatic sobs (she knows it’s Oscar season) she was able to tell me that she was referring to her FurReal dog. You’ve seen these? Cute, little creatures whose heads and tail vibrate upon touch? Not really for real, but close enough for our purposes. Anyway, I tried to push it’s little button to turn it off but it didn’t work. The dang tail kept on wagging and the loud vibrating noise was starting to get annoying. I started hitting it against the table hoping to abuse it in to submission. I threw it on the floor. I read the tag for instructions. Nada. I couldn’t take out batteries because there are none? (How the heck does it vibrate then?? Magic?) This thing was possessed! Just like her zhu zhu pet—months ago Noelle received a zhu zhu pet that was beloved. Until it started going off and on by itself. In the middle of the night. So Noelle’s love turned to to hate. Nobody likes a possessed toy. And now she had two!
I really didn’t know how to fix it. I tried putting it under the couch pillows to muffle the sound but you could still hear it. Naptime was here and figuring out the possessed FurReal wasn’t high on my priorities, so I did the only thing I could think of. I put it on the porch and hoped it would die or some neighbor kid would come steal it. 6 hours later it was vibrating loud and strong. Still on our porch. Hub arrived home, picked it up, tweaked the tail and fixed it. How come he is always the hero?