[Cross Posted from Sixteen Small Stones]

We don’t belong to the “leave’m crying” nor the “sneak out when they aren’t paying attention” schools of parenting.  As a result, I spend a lot of time in the nursery with my two-year-old during church on Sunday, even though I am not currently assigned to work in the nursery.  A few years ago, when our older children were this age, my wife and I were called as the nursery leaders.  My parents never did successfully get me to go to nursery as a child, but I have certainly made up for it as an adult.

When my grandfather passed away last year our family held a viewing at the local meetinghouse.  Among the cousins, some of the young parents and their children ended up in the nursery room.  As the kids played, one of the dolls caught my attention.  The scowling face glared fiercely with a look much too mature for its little body.  It was the ugliest doll I had ever seen!  I wish that I had a picture of it.

Let’s face it, there are some bizarre and scary old toys out there, lurking in LDS nursery closets and cupboards.

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