The day after Fat Tuesday (curse you, postal system! The Republicans were right!) the wife and I got a Mardi Gras gift from a friend in the mail. So did Stella. They were in two mysterious, yet mundane, cardboard boxes. The kind you’ve seen a million times before. Box-shaped. Brown. Made of cardboard. Not even the exuberant HAPPY MARDI GRAS! written in happy Sharpie® could betray the the mind-bendingly perplexing, wonderfully weird insanity contained within.
Should I go into the basement, retrieve the boxes, and stage a photo with them? No- I am far too tired, too lazy, and I hunger for authenticity. And explaining that is slightly more amusing than a photo of a cardboard box. I hope.
This post is about the contents of the first box: MY box.
LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL! It’s Mardi Gras Imports Brand King Cake Babies! 6 Dozen of them, for only $2.75. Charmingly abbreviated with the snappy KG/CK BABY. I love that we are told the exact shade of pink: C203. This particular bag was made on August 11. Do plastic babies expire?
Apparently my friend had read this. Well played.
So many. So anonymous. So nude. Such weird legs. Such weird arms. Just enough of a face to make you wonder. It’s like a mannequin laid 10,000 eggs, and they just hatched. SHUDDER.
Stella wanted to handle them outside the bag. I couldn’t let them loose, because human babies will attempt to eat them with potentially disastrous results. So, I put them in a bowl. There was a surprising amount of mannequin spawn in the bag. 6 dozen of the little guys. That’s 72, which is a lot, it turns out. They filled the bowl to overflowing. Ew.
Lighting is everything, isn’t it? These look like a completely different group of babies. Much more warm and appealing. And look- they have little FINGERS! Sort of.
Note that they have a hole straight through the gut and out the back. A perfect, clean, chaste, bullet hole. At least, that’s how it reads to me. I am a sick man.
Tomorrow: PART TWO!