As I walk around after getting the kids to bed, trying to restore some order to the place (ignore the mess, I’m mid cooking/gardening frenzy), I turn the corner into my kitchen to find this:
Is that an infant? Sitting up on the stool in my kitchen? Unattended?
Oh my gosh. It is!
Thankfully, it’s not a real one.
Just real looking enough to give me a startle every time I walk into the kitchen. Dolls and I are on a provisionary basis anyway. The more real looking they are, the more they freak me out. And old dolls….just forget about that.