36 degrees here on the island… feeling hot bothered and tired.
We don't have many toys in the house that make sounds. There's a music box, a bike that plays a little tune when you press the horn and a fisherprice play table with a music button. There is also a doll fashioned to look like Murray the wiggle that sings when you press his belly. After an incident during which Minty disturbed a completely silent library with 'PLAY YOUR GUITAR WITH MURRAY!!' I mostly keep the doll switched off, but at some stage this week Minty discovered the on button. Poor little Turi was blissfully unaware that the doll could speak and in the course of playing with it gave the tummy a poke. When Murray shouted 'HI MY NAME'S MURRAY!' Turi was petrified. He reacted much as I imagine you would if you saw Jesus rise from the tomb - more terrified than excited, with an intense desire to touch the hem of his robe countered with an equally intense fear that if he did some higher power might smote him. After several minutes of hysterical screaming and sobbing while Turi periodically poked the doll to check if it would do it again, I decided it was best that Murray retired to another room out of sight.
This morning Turi spotted Murray hidden away in the dining room and I decided it might be time to reintroduce him. I sat Turi on my knee and held his hand while I helped him make Murray speak. Sadly my attempt to overcome his phobia was an epic failure. The screaming and sobbing was repeated each time Murray spoke even as I attempted to reassure Turi that everything was fine. Then Minty entered the room. She masterfully took Murray from my hand, pressed his tummy and told Turi, 'Look Turi don't be frightened, he's nice. He's a toy.' Turi immediately stopped sobbing and was soon dancing along to Murray's song. Clearly Minty has a much greater influence than I.