One of the stories my mom often related was the tale of
Adenoids, her favorite doll (yes, that was her name). Little Joanie adored
Adenoids and took her everywhere. At some point, Mom decided that Adenoids was
hungry, so she started feeding her bits of food through the doll’s small, open
mouth. Needless to say, that quickly became one stinky dolly; one night Grandpa
took matters into his own hands and threw Adenoids in the trash after his
daughter was asleep. Next morning, Mom was so inconsolable that her dad ended
up going down and rooting through piles of garbage until he found the toy and
returned A. to her owner. I can only imagine how fragrant Adenoids became
before, I’m sure, Joanie tired of her and this time opted to pitch her herself.
The tale was held up to us as an example of love, loyalty and the crazy things
we do for our kids.
As a tot, I had two favorite “friends”: a Shirley Temple
doll and a stuffed skunk I had named Stinky (should’ve introduced him to
Adenoids). I recall many a playtime marriage ceremony, uniting two different species
in holy wedlock. Quite the imagination even then!
When my children came along, they each favored different
kinds of toys. Sheridan was the Lego King, to the point that he refused to
dismantle any of his complex creations (necessitating our buying MORE Legos for
him (see above: crazy things we do for our kids). Evan was our Superhero guy,
with “action figures” of every kind of “man”: Spider, Bat, etc. Rose, my first
girl, was gifted with loads of dolls but was really lukewarm about them all.
She did enjoy having an American Girl doll that looked like her, right down to the
eyeglasses, but didn’t play much with her. PJ was all about all things Pokemon,
for years. Little Jules adored her floppy Molly doll (from the Canadian TV
series “Big Comfy Couch.”)
Julie Meets Molly |
After a long toy-less interval, here we are again in
Babyland, and I love it. While there are certainly lots of newfangled
playthings (Aiden loves his “Picasso” magnetic blocks), the old reliables are
still around to charm and comfort my grandsons (including a real survivor, Sheridan’s
first teddy bear, the cleverly named “Ted”).
Two Month Old Sher "singing" to Paddington |
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