The rabbit has a favorite toy: a rubber snake. Her grandparents were trying to buy her a fluffy penguin after a trip to the Central Park Zoo. But she shook her head calmly and said, "Snake" as she pointed to the green creature.
"WHACK" goes the snake as it is flung against the couch, the wall, the fence near our apartment and the back of the legs of little old ladies in our neighborhood. (There are many to choose from.) This is a very enjoyable sport and usually is followed by a lady squealing in mock horror at the rabbit, "Ohh! A snake! I'm scared." To which the rabbit rolls her eyes in the back of her head and smiles her "Demon Baby" grin.
We don't have any idea where she picked up Demon Baby. We've asked --- she just smiled. Now, as one who has an unnatural attraction to horror films, who has seen The Exorcist too many time to count (yes, even the Director's Cut), I have to admit I'm a little unsettled.
Today I put her in a T-shirt that has angel wings printed on the back, and "98 %" printed on the front. Demon baby still popped up at dinner, right in the middle of chocolate pudding. Now, I understand children are supposed to have imaginary friends. But please.