A sad day. Alas, Sleeping Beauty has met the fate of all toys left on the grass when the mower is allowed full reign.
This evening Ryan mowed our backyard while we were outside. The girls were playing in the sprinkler on the upper portion while he mowed down below. There was a big crackle crunch sound and we all came running. (We thought maybe our old sad mower might have died) Ryan himself was unsure of the cause of the sound, so he let the engine die. He picked up a few pieces of blue plastic and puzzled aloud over what it might have been. Upon further inspection, we discovered it had been Sleeping Beauty. Then the wailing began. That was Emma's favorite "polly." (This is the name of all smaller dolls, as in Polly Pocket.) I found first a recognizable arm, more pieces of dress, another arm and lastly, a head. Emma clutched the pieces of her destroyed doll and cried and cried and cried. Ryan and I exchanged amused looks. Ok, that's not quite honest-- more like we shared a look that said, "Don't laugh. Our daughter is crushed, but it's a little bit funny somehow." Surely good parents wouldn't feel the urge to laugh, so why did we? The doll is totally demolished. Emma singled out the arms and head and begged to be allowed to keep those pieces. She tearfully asked why Daddy killed Sleeping Beauty. We made it a teaching moment: This is why we don't leave our toys outside. Emma grieved for a half hour, clinging to the broken pieces of her lost doll. Poor Sleeping Beauty. She won't even be allowed to rest in peace. Her dress is now lost in the kitchen garbage, but her head and arms await Emma's pleasure on top of the tv. It's a little morbid, no?