This evening as I was rounding the corner to go down our hallway I was greeted by this sight...
That would be Kaitlin, standing next to our hall closet, the closet that keeps all our towels, blankets and sheets neatly organized...
and apparently now it has also become a crime scene.
Those long lanky legs belong to one of Kaitlin's dolls. She got him on her 8th grade field trip to Colonial Williamsburg and she named him Bobo. Yes, Bobo.
Bobo has lived in Kaitlin's room the last six or seven years in relative peace. Yes he has on occasion been found buried under a mountain of dirty clothes. And there was that time the dog somehow managed to get him outside for a week before she noticed he was gone. But other than those few embarassing moments, he has lived a good life.
And now he's become the victim of a violent crime. Just another nameless statistic. Well, ok he has a name. Bobo.
I don't know who she made mad...but I'm guessing Bobo wishes he was still sitting on that gift shop shelf back in good ol' Colonial Williamsburg.