Friday, August 15, 2008


I picked out the lil' dude's first baby doll, and wrapped it in hot pink snowflake paper for Christmas. She was 2.5 weeks old. This was something I knew I wanted to do, I felt a Mama should be the first person to buy her daughter a doll. Doll's head smells like baby powder, naturally.

Doll sits in the lil' dude's basket of friends on her floor. This week, four nights in a row, she went crawling into her room, digging through her friends, to find doll. Then, she would sit and chew on doll's head and face, her plastic body parts just too delicious to resist.

Once, she pulled herself to standing on the side of her toy box, which is situated beneath her window. She grabbed doll by the arm and tried to throw her onto the windowsill as her she went to her tippy toes and reached up . . . see doll? See the world outside?

The next night, she tried to bring the doll with her to take a bath. She was half-crawling, half-dragging doll under her belly on her way to the bathroom. Her zealous excitement for bathtime ultimately meant doll was left behind, lying in the hallway on her face.

I said to the Dad how sweet I think it is lil' dude has found an object she seems to care for more than the rest- this week, at least. He said, "dolls are dumb." Seems he may be 4 years old after all.

I just smiled, and watched the lil' dude play with doll from her doorway. I smiled thinking of the day doll has a name and the Dad has to carry her in public, have tea parties with her, and return to a hotel 80 miles away to retrieve her. That won't be dumb at all.

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