Cookie Monster FOUND!

With the odds stacked against him, a courageous stuffed toy, "Cookie Monster" crawls his way through the brush and out from a dark hole in the Christie yard, collapsing on the open grass, where he is whisked away by a preschooler with a toy helicopter to the laundry room. When his ruthless attacker, Hell Hound, the family dog, stalks him there, Cookie Monster bravely stands his ground from atop the washing machine, shouting Robert DiNiro's infamous catchphrase from Taxi Driver, "You talk'in to me?!!" After several agonizing days of being held captive by Hell Hound, who reportedly moved the poor stuffed toy to several holes throughout the yard, Cookie Monster is physically drained. He is currently in hiding under baby Bigfoot's toddler bed.

(Editor's note: Yes, reader, I am crazy, but here's a secret, life is more fun this way.)

Cookie Monster: "You talk'in to me!?"

Mommy "Be's a Tective"

It's another adventurous day in Mommy Land, where trouble is brewing thanks to my nemesis, Hell Hound. The princess approaches me in the garden, out of breath. "Mommy, Mommy! We have to be tectives. Hell Hound swiped Cookie Monster! You bring your shovel, and I'll use my tective sploring device. Follow ME!"

Reader, I know you remember "Duck" and his dramatic rescue a few posts ago. Unfortunately for this high-profile celebrity stuffed toy, I'm afraid it may be too late. Cookie Monster was last seen this morning on the foot of baby Bigfoot's big boy bed, sprawled face down, resting comfortably. It seems that Hell Hound, while wandering the house looking for something evil to do, passed baby brother's room where she discovered the victim, whom she has been stalking for several months, within reach on the toddler bed.

Next thing I know I'm running through the yard behind the princess, shovel in hand, looking for anything blue and furry. This is actually a normal day in the life of this stay-at-home mom. It's an odd, and sometimes "ri-dick-oo-lous" job, but highly important, none-the-less. Grabbing the camera from the kitchen table, I decide to pressure the beast Paparazzi style, but she nearly eats it, citing her right to an attorney.

After three grueling minutes of searching for poor Cookie, the princess and I are faced with a hard choice: keep looking, or go and eat lunch. We choose the peanut butter and jelly.

Will Cookie Monster ever be found? Only Hell Hound knows.