This is an actual disorder, MOM

For Christmas Leta asked for a Webkinz, specifically this Gingerbread Puppy, and I had to google, “What in the hell is a Webkinz?” I cannot keep up with all the toys they have for kids these days (Polly Pockets, Littlest Petshop, Squinkies, etc.). And yeah, would you look at that? Excuse me, but $45 fucking dollars for a stuffed animal? IT HAD BETTER KNOW HOW TO FIX MAMA A HOT DOG.

It was one of just a few things I got her for Christmas because that is just criminal, but then suddenly my mother found out that Leta loves these things and would show up with one or two for both girls, a cat or a dog here, a bunny rabbit there. I didn’t say anything at first, because my mother can spend her money however she wants. I mean, she doesn’t throw a fit about all the money I spend on autographed “Knight Rider” posters.

But then she started showing up with seven or eight at a time. And I was like, DUDE, that’s at least $350 worth of stuffed animals. Did you hit your head?

Apparently you can find these things at DI for a buck or two apiece. And she has been driving around to every DI in the valley to seek out and buy every single donated Webkinz. This pile here doesn’t even represent half of what I’m dealing with.

She came up for a visit on Sunday with a bag full of them, at least 20 different stuffed animals including the apparently elusive “camel” Webkinz.

“MOTHER—”

“Do not say one word to me about this,” she interrupted. “I experience such joy in finding these for your girls. It’s an absolute pleasure.”

Marlo was bursting with excitement and then leaned over and whispered something into my mother’s ear. I blinked loudly several times and crossed my arms because my mother’s smile meant that I was dealing with a conspiracy.

My mother nodded at Marlo who then ran over to me and shout-whispered, “DO NOT KILL GRANDMOMMY!” She then disappeared for about two minutes and returned with a giant bag filled with about 30 Webkinz that I didn’t even know were in the house.

My mother had told her to hide them.

Mom, I really hope your bishop is reading this. I’m calling him to take part in your intervention.