It finally happened.
After weeks of delay, incantations disguised as order confirmations, and whispered pleas into the void of tracking numbers… two of the creatures arrived.
But not by mail. Not by courier. Not even via Pop Mart drop.
They were hand-delivered by my internet fairy godfather at the sweetest little coffee shop on the sunniest of sunny days. He showed up like an angel with perfectly manicured nails and a bag strap full of Labubu.
We hugged.
We sat.
We laughed.
We basked in awkward silence.
And then, like a benevolent cryptid, he bestowed upon me the Labubus.
Or… is it Labubu?
Is Labubu both singular and plural?
I guess that’s something I should work out…
Day 22
They’re here.
They made it.
They exist.
I’m holding them in my hands, but they feel like a dream with fuzzy limbs and vinyl skin. I keep checking the box to make sure they didn’t vanish back into it. They didn’t. But they could.
I’ve been watching them settle in the way you watch a new roommate unpack. Cautious. Curious. Resigned to whatever haunted energy is now yours to share.
One of them feels like a trickster. The other, a prophet. I haven’t decided which is which. I don’t think they want me to. Also, they do not like the lighting in my bedroom.
Day 23
We knew this moment would come.
The grey one has moved out.
He’s gone to live with my daughter.
The moment they met, he whispered in her ear. A name. A bond. A truth I was never meant to hear.
I believe her. These creatures don’t lie.
They just… withhold.
So now the Labubu formerly known as the grey one, briefly known as Sesame, is off living a 20-something life of brunches and questionable decisions. He is her son. He is my grandchild.
I’m proud.
I’m heartbroken.
I’m still adjusting.
Day 25
It’s been three days since the Labubu came home with me.
it’s just me and my Labubu now. Left to bond without a shared language. They haven’t told me anything about themself. What if he isn’t happy. What if he doesn’t like it here. What if this was all a mistake?
Day 27
Last night, I woke with a start and sat bolt upright in bed.
I haven’t checked the shipping status of the others. The first two. The ones I ordered a lifetime ago, back when I was still naive enough to think you could just pick one off the internet. Add to cart. Summon joy.
I’m afraid to look now. Because I know better. I know what happens when you crossbreed a Monchhichi with a Troll and call it cute. We play in strange shadows. Just because we can doesn’t mean we should.
But still… I yearn to know.
Are the others ever coming?
Were they ever meant to?
I’m not sure if I should check.
I’m not sure if I want to.
What if they were never mine?
Maybe there’s a distribution system for Labubus, the way there is for cats.
You don’t get the one you want.
You get the one that needs you.
Or the one the universe sends when you need something weird to believe in.
But my Labubu friend still hasn’t said a word.
Day 28
I was booked to speak at a conference this afternoon, so I spent the morning doing normal things. Routine things. Grounding things.
At some point, I paused to check on my Labubu. I really need to start calling him something until he tells me his name. But he wasn’t in any of his usual spots.
When it was time to head out the door and he still hadn’t turned up, I assumed the worst. Vanished. Cursed. Or worse… adopted by a passing crow.
But when I unzipped my backpack to pull out my laptop before presenting, there he was. Waiting.
He stowed away to be with me?
What would you name an emotionally complicated vinyl cryptid?
CamiKaos 