Bride of Chucky Suite

My daughter was due home for a visit and I was thrilled. We hadn’t seen her in several months and were excited about her weekend stay. After five years living in this house, I decided it was time to finish our extra bedroom. The Murphy bed in the side bedroom was functional, but not warm and welcoming. I wanted cozy and comfortable.

Though originally destined as a guest room, it had become a ‘catchall’ space, housing computers, books, crafts, odd chairs and tax returns, as well as various items that would not fit in the garage. I worked diligently, painting, decorating, throwing away, and obviously adding necessary items – dresser, desk, bureau – garage sale antiques that I cleaned up and made cozy. Except for the antique trundle bed – that was something I couldn’t live without. Along with a couple of mirrors and lots of photos: the girl’s graduations, first baby steps, tiny scrawls of ‘I love you mama’ on pieces of paper – the items a mother cannot let go.

It did not matter to me that my baby was out of college and working on Wall Street.

I simply knew she would love sleeping on the trundle bed with its beautifully arched backboard, brass end caps, feather bed, patchwork comforter and a dozen lace throw pillows. Several lace doilies on a night table and her baby mobile from her christening hanging in the corner completed my vision of cozy, inviting and comfortable.

Feeling really good about the ‘new’ look of our alternative garage, I waited for her look of awe. She barely got through the front door when I walked her to the newly completed sleeping space.

Ma! What’s with the room?

Don’t’cha love it? I was…

Ma! It’s freaky. It’s a kid’s room.

No it’s not, it’s our new guest room.

Ma! You have my Cabbage Patch doll on the pillow!

I know, isn’t she cute? Did you notice I put your red velvet baby dress on her?

She? It’s a doll – not a she! And…and… you have my old Easter bunnies on the chair…MA! You have my mobile hanging in the corner. My mobile! This is too weird.

I was crushed. Jerry stood at the door silently saying, “I told you so” which was fine – I would deal with him harshly at a later time! Let him think he’s safe .

Samantha’s friend Matt arrived for dinner and as I finished setting the table I noticed them chatting quietly in the corner. When I asked if all was okay, she replied:

“Yeah, Matt just got a little freaked when he looked at the guest room and my Cabbage Patch doll was staring at him. It reminds him of, “Bride of Chucky’s Doll House.” He thought maybe you had adopted a kid or something. His mom threw all his old garbage out when he left home.”

Silently, my mind screamed – Garbage? She threw out all his baby things?

Setting the lasagna and French bread on the table, I waited for dinner to end. The food was good – conversation was limited. Samantha and Matt left for a movie. Jerry went searching for his remote control – he thought he’d escaped retribution.

Opening a lovely bottle of Shiraz, I walked into the Bride of Chucky Suite and placed my crystal wine glass on the antique corner table. I sat in the overstuffed, sage-green barrel chair with complimenting embroidered pillows. It was situated at a west-facing window flanked by lace curtains that allowed the setting sun to filter in onto the flowered carpet and illuminate the stained glass ornaments.

I was right – this is cozy, inviting and comfortable.

…just my thoughts

15 thoughts on “Bride of Chucky Suite

  1. You put me on the floor with laughter as usual. I visualized Sam’s facial expression and the faint smirk on Jerry’s face. Classic JD young material!

  2. I empathize with you Jd. I still try to dress my 19 year old. She is mortified at some of the clothes I used to dress her in, especially the farmer jean overalls. I’m still dying to hear the tongue lashing you gave Jerry. I hope you at least removed the batteries from his remote. Hahaha!!

  3. I empathize with you Jd. I still try to dress my 19 year old, but she’s mortified at some of the outfits I used to dress her in, especially the farmer jean overalls! Still waiting to hear the tongue lashing Jerry got. I hope you at least removed the batteries from his remote! Hahaha!

  4. Alternate title: Trials and Tribulations of a Doting Mother Who Means Well…

    Granted I’m male, and will never fully comprehend a mother’s point of view, I can fully sympathize with this. Not only that, but it carries all the trademarks of your voice on the page, and that alone makes it worth the read. This reminded me of my own mother, who still calls me by my pet name, which no one will ever know, even under threat of death. But that’s a mother’s right, and I allow her that. Your knack for whimsy is admirable. You have the ability to take a single episode in the ‘life and times of JD Young’ and make them read like something scripted. That alone is testament to your skill. You make me laugh, you make me grin devilishly, you make me think, ponder, wonder, and just be happy for being party to your misadventures. This is why I love what you write.

    Another brilliant slice of life from you pen, ma’am. Long live your voice on the page 🙂

    1. I’m still in tears from the first story and then I read this…I swear I remember parts of this story previously but this brings at all hysterically back! Sometimes we just can’t win as parents no matter how hard we try but I bet she remembers what you did! You are such a gifted writer and story teller!

    2. I thought I had read this but I had not. Hysterical to say the least. I could just visualize the expression on Sam’s face when she walked in the room and Jerry casually and calmly trying not to smirk. You can always put me on the floor with laughter

  5. Hah, well, I’d hate to be poor Jerry. Let’s just say I know what’s comin’ up — what he’s “in for”. As for your daughter, well… I personally don’t feel that what you did to the room was all that creepy. She wants “creepy”, send her over to my house. I’ll show her what creepy really looks like…heh-heh-heh… ~SPOOKY 🙂

  6. Give her time. I still have my daughter’s Cabbage Patch doll, Victoria Elizabeth, as well as a ceramic tea set, stuffed toys, books, etc. She is 45 now and has teenagers of her own. I’ve started a collection of their precious memories as well. Someday they will want them for their own babies.

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