Are Monsters appropriate Nursery Decor?

     What kind of person wants freaks in their bedroom? Who thinks having monsters in the closet is a good idea, particularly in a nursery? Well, I do, for one. Because who can turn away a freak made of plaid and corduroy? Who can evict a monster full of stuffing with a ridiculous look on his face?

     There’s something about an odd-looking misfit with a good button nose that tends to get to certain susceptible persons. And, it would appear, this recent paterfamilias, J.D., is just that sort of person. Not to suggest that I’m a sucker for button noses. I’m not. Even the best button nose can store evil intentions behind it if given the time, the inclination, and, oftentimes, the organization of fellow like-minded button noses to cook up a particularly nasty idea.

     But all the same, I would suggest that most people should offer the occasional button nosed freak a roof over their head every once and a while, even if for only a short time.

     Recently, my most favorite freak is Monsieur Ratos (a rat from the French company Deglingos). Not that my infant daughter could give a damn one way or the other about said Monsieur Ratos, or, for that matter, Monsieur Kitschos (a fox, which we have also recently acquired). To date, she has found her own fingers and the act of napping to be considerably more engrossing than any corduroy covered weirdo in a hounds tooth vest and tweed short pants. But still, I find these strangely designed, semi-piecemeal freaks to be nearly endlessly entertaining.

      Now, I have a confession: initially, I did not “adopt” Monsieur Ratos the rat out of an appreciation for interesting design or a penchant for the eccentric, nor was that pattern-eared abnormality granted access beyond my front door simply out of the goodness of my own heart. No, unfortunately, this was not to be the case. Ratos the rat (a squeaking baby teether) was brought home within the parameters of a very specific ulterior motive. I wanted to annoy my sister-in-law. A noble intention, I am sure many might admit, although perhaps not in quite so public a forum. But alas, many a cooler head exists in the world than that which lies upon the shoulders of this recent paterfamilias. All the same, Monsieur Ratos didn’t make it into my shopping bag on the merits of his originality. I picked the rat for the enjoyment of watching my sister-in-law look in my bassinet, see my baby daughter clutching her beloved toy to her chest (an action she has yet to perfect), and then look at me with an incredulous look, the type of which only my sister-in-law is capable, and then say, with all the scorn and tone one might expect from an Upper East Sider, “You gave your baby a RAT?” Like it was an actual one I’d plucked from the trashcan on the corner. 

  
      But Monsieur Ratos grew on me. His fabric ears and X-marks-the-spot-dead-eye are somehow endearing. Maybe I have a weak spot for the Underdog. 

       Now we have a whole collection of these weirdos. The Fox I mentioned before, a big, a cow with an enormous udder, and a weird looking chicken. There’s a lobster and a hedgehog I want to get, too, but a person can’t just go running around spending all his money on plush toys. 

        So, it would appear that sometimes abject antagonization for members of your family can occasionally culminate positively for the antagonist. And when what you get for all your pains turns out to be a few freaks bedding down with your infant child for the foreseeable future, it seems to be a good ending for all involved.