Amber's Halloween segue into the Holiday season
Remember those cute little trolls with the frizzed up hair? The ones with too many wrinkles and the snub, upturned noses? At one point in time I think everyone has had one on their desk, or has given one in a gesture of warm fuzzies. Something about their bare toes and twinkling eyes could warm a spot into anybody’s heart.
At the young age of about six or seven I was given a jolly little Santa troll. He had the round belly that filled his red suit, and snow white hair that fluffed straight up. He had a big smile that curved up into his round dimpled cheeks. Whichever relative it was that gave Santa troll to me, clearly had the best of intentions, but as Santa troll sat perched on my book shelf over a period of time he evolved into something completely different. Santa troll would just stand there perpetually staring. Staring at me always with those kelly green eyes. His troll eyes didn’t glimmer like the other happy trolls. They glared – an evil green glare. After awhile it got to me and I did what any other industrious seven year-old would do; I threw him into the darkest corner of my closet.
A month or so passed. Then one day Satan…er Santa troll reappeared. Quickly, he was thrown back into the closet, but after a few more weeks he would come back once again as if to haunt me. We played this little game of Hide and Go Seek for quite a period of time until I had finally come to my breaking point. This time, I had to think hard and think fast about where I could stash the persistent troll with the burning eyes. After some inner debating, he went into a box, on a shelf in the basement, which says a lot for a girl with an over active imagination to dare and wander into the spooky dark hole beneath the house. Satan troll was that evil.
Years passed and the troll fell out of thought. Until one day, the family was working together to clean out years of clutter from the basement. Suddenly, there he was with that unnerving stare glaring at the ceiling from the bottom of a dusty box.
“Well, how did this get here?!” exclaimed my dad. “You wouldn’t believe how many times I kept finding him in the strangest of places, and had to put him back on your shelf.”
Ah Ha! The mystery had been solved. Satan troll had lulled my dad into doing his evil deeds, hypnotized by the poisonous green stare! How could I have been so blind all these years?! Now it was time for me to have that last laugh.
“Let’s just pitch him, dad. He smells like mildew,” as I tossed him, still glaring into the junk pile.
At the young age of about six or seven I was given a jolly little Santa troll. He had the round belly that filled his red suit, and snow white hair that fluffed straight up. He had a big smile that curved up into his round dimpled cheeks. Whichever relative it was that gave Santa troll to me, clearly had the best of intentions, but as Santa troll sat perched on my book shelf over a period of time he evolved into something completely different. Santa troll would just stand there perpetually staring. Staring at me always with those kelly green eyes. His troll eyes didn’t glimmer like the other happy trolls. They glared – an evil green glare. After awhile it got to me and I did what any other industrious seven year-old would do; I threw him into the darkest corner of my closet.
A month or so passed. Then one day Satan…er Santa troll reappeared. Quickly, he was thrown back into the closet, but after a few more weeks he would come back once again as if to haunt me. We played this little game of Hide and Go Seek for quite a period of time until I had finally come to my breaking point. This time, I had to think hard and think fast about where I could stash the persistent troll with the burning eyes. After some inner debating, he went into a box, on a shelf in the basement, which says a lot for a girl with an over active imagination to dare and wander into the spooky dark hole beneath the house. Satan troll was that evil.
Years passed and the troll fell out of thought. Until one day, the family was working together to clean out years of clutter from the basement. Suddenly, there he was with that unnerving stare glaring at the ceiling from the bottom of a dusty box.
“Well, how did this get here?!” exclaimed my dad. “You wouldn’t believe how many times I kept finding him in the strangest of places, and had to put him back on your shelf.”
Ah Ha! The mystery had been solved. Satan troll had lulled my dad into doing his evil deeds, hypnotized by the poisonous green stare! How could I have been so blind all these years?! Now it was time for me to have that last laugh.
“Let’s just pitch him, dad. He smells like mildew,” as I tossed him, still glaring into the junk pile.
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