I take it back.

Don’t do that. Never, ever do that.

Furbies are modern-day Annabelle dolls; they turn evil.

Did anyone ever tell you that? Because no one ever told me…until it was too late.

So consider yourself warned, dear unsuspecting parent who only wants to give your child the delights of her young heart. Hear this and hear this well.

Furbies are the devil’s spawn.

It seemed right to tell you this at Halloween — before you fall prey to the Christmas marketing machine and allow one of these battery-powered dementors into your home.

Here’s Lucy with her Furby one year ago.

Okay, the Furby still looks freakish with eyes that glow death. But trust me. This thing giggled a lot. SO MUCH. To the point you wanted to hurl it across the room.

Which might actually have happened. I can’t be sure, but let’s just say there were rowdy boy cousins involved. There was much shaking of the Furby, a good bit of poking, maybe a smidge of mockery.

All I know is, one minute Furby was all hearts and flowers. The next minute Lucy is running to me in terror, crying, “Why is Furby talking like that?? You need to take it back and get me a new one!”

A deep voice was emanating from the Furby now, its eyes slitty and angry. “Stop doing that,” road-rage truck-stop Furby was saying over and over, all cranky and hung-over and skeevy.

It was oddly terrifying, as if we were looking straight into the murderous eyes of Chuckie.

Please forgive my French (as if the French even say this), but WHAT. THE. HELL.

This is a toy. For little kids. That I paid actual money for. And it was quite literally possessed.

Quick as a flash, I googled “weird voice Furby.” And all these discussions popped up about the secret life of Furby that I never knew.

Furby apparently has MULTIPLE PERSONALITIES – everything from Valley girl to country cowboy to evil entity.

One Amazon reviewer shared that her only way out of this torment was to coo and pet and talk sweet to the Furby (all while it hurled insults at her) until the mechanical demon was exorcised.

So there I sat. Stroking a weird furry machine on my lap and begging it in my sweetest voice to”get behind me, Satan.” The grandparents stared at me, agape.

After the longest, most ridiculous ten minutes of my life, a full-body shudder wracked our little demon-possessed furball.

It had been released.

I’m pretty sure Lucy never played with it again.

So here Furby sits on Lucy’s shelf.

This is all it does ever.

(And believe me, it’s only still here because of Lucy’s extreme hoarding tendencies.)

There are books behind Furby that we sometimes try to reach. But we are careful to nudge Furby only ever so slightly in the process.

We do not want to rouse the beast.

So on Day 29 of my 31 Days of Fun Stuff for Families, might I suggest never, ever getting a Furby? Not having an evil toy that talks to your child like a creep with lollipops in a conversion van is lots more fun than having a toy that does. Trust me on this.

Just get Tickle-Me-Elmo and call it a day. Your ears -and your child’s tender psyche- will thank me for it.

P.S. I’d love to hear your weirdo Furby stories! I know I’m not alone in this. Maybe we could form a Furby support group…