I have three larger dolls. Their names are Addy, Samantha and Felicity. Cora discovered the dolls in my closet, and has been repeatedly asking to play with them. They fascinate her. Aside from being an only sometimes pleasure of her life, one of the dolls became her best friend yesterday. This doll, named felicity seems to have more personality because there was a book in the case which included her story.
Once Mom read the story to her, and Cora discovered it involved horses, shopping and something called britches which looked like her shorts, she decided that Felicity was her freind. Now I have a War on my hands. Felicity keeps on dissappearing from my room, and when Cora is allowed to play with her, she will wrap her in her arms at the end of the day and insist that Felicity is her bestest freind. Amongst kisses and pathetic doggy eyes, ensues the verbal altrication in which I explain that Felicity is my doll, and that she must be returned to her place.
"She can sleep with me." Cora tries. I find myself thinking that this is just a doll, and that I am a little big for dolls. Then I remember the bargaining power of these play sessions, and the hours (literally) of peace they create for me. So far I have won all the battles, but the war is not over.
Maybe santa will offer a peace treaty in the form of a duplicate doll? Who knows. That little girl already has her own big doll, and is not the least bit interested in her. The insides of a three year olds mind are a mystery. Excuse me. Another battle commences.