Some toys really deserve to be crushed

I was awoken an hour ahead of schedule earlier this week to a ghoulish laugh that made me sit up in bed, startled, and knowing only that something was wrong. It took me a few moments to clear my eyes and I could see that Declan was still sound asleep next to me. As I gathered myself, the pain from having his foot lodged in my rib cage became more apparent.

I removed his foot and pushed his entire body as far to the other side of my Queen size bed as I could, knowing that even while sound asleep he would somehow continue to widdle his way back towards my side of the bed.

His late night habit of sneaking into my bed after he is certain I am asleep has been a common occurrence for as long as I can remember, although it has lessened as he gets older.

I have increasingly discouraged the practice via various tactics, directly related to the increasing power of his late night kicks as he gets bigger. Each evening I tinker with the furnace thermometer, hoping to find just the right temperature that encourages him to stay in his own bed, at one point I even took notes.

I have yet to come up with anything solid though and am still uncertain whether it occurs when he is too warm or too cold, or if temperature even has anything to do with it.

This particular morning it wasn't a bruised rib cage that had startled me awake though, it was a laugh that sounded like it was straight out of a horror flick.

After sitting up for several minutes I determined I must have dreamed the sound and was wasting my last hour of sleep.

At precisely the moment I closed my eyes and my head hit the pillow, I heard a second, equally chilling laugh that sounded more like a cackling witch.

I shot up in bed, this time a little freaked out, but was again greeted with several minutes of silence.

It donned on me that perhaps my forgetful little brother had left a movie on, so I got out of bed and made my way to the living room, turning on every light in my path and guiding my way with a golf club.

As I searched the living room and kitchen for anything out of the norm, I heard a third laugh, oddly different than the other two, but also lasting just a couple of seconds and sounding like something with a Halloween theme to it.

This time I was at least certain the sound was coming from Declan's vacant bedroom and began to suspect the creepy laughs were originating from a toy in one of his two toy boxes.

Declan's toy boxes sit at each end of his room so I positioned myself in the center, my head on a swivel bouncing my gaze back and forth from each toy box awaiting for a sound to identify which toy box was responsible for prematurely awaking me from my slumber. After several minutes I had heard nothing.

Eventually I gave in, confident it was just a toy and deciding to spend the final minutes before my day began in bed, as opposed to standing in Declan's bedroom.

The ghoulish laughter did not repeat itself and I actually fell back to sleep rather quickly, only to be awoken a few minutes later by the equally scary, but all too familiar, sound of my morning alarm clock.

After rousing Declan awake I informed him there had been some creepy sounds coming from his bedroom. He shot up in bed much like I had earlier, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and wanting to know what I was talking about with great interest.

"One of your toys I think, do you have one that makes scary laughs?"

Declan smiled, "No, you heard scary laughs?" he asked, jumping from my bed and running towards his room.

I was glad he wasn't scared by the notion, but his obvious interest was curious. I followed him to his room and he turned back to face me as he reached the center, asking me, "Where did it come from?"

"One of your toy boxes I think," I replied. He shot towards the larger of the two and grabbed the side of it, shaking it to cause the toys inside to shift around and immediately we heard the spooky laughter.

"Thats it!" I said.

Declan's smile got even bigger as he began pulling toys from the box until he had retrieved a fairly good sized plastic haunted house, equipped with all sorts of not-so-wonderful push button spooky sounds.

"You got scared by my haunted house," he laughed.

I hadn't seen the toy in almost a year, when his mother had informed me that he absolutely had to take it home with him, following his summer visit at her house. It seemed odd at the time that she was so adamant, and even stranger that he didn't really play with it after we got home, but it all became clear that morning.

I don't think the toy is to blame for Declan's late night trips to my bedroom, but I have moved it to the basement after he refused to let me crush it. This summer I plan to ensure the spooky little audio equipped toy finds it way back to his mothers house and hopefully to the bottom of a toy box near her.