The American Girl doll catalog arrived unbidden at our house, and I watched Annie enjoy it in precisely the same way as I enjoy CB2 and Design Within Reach. She is blissfully ignorant that the content is for sale.
I’m starting a log of the hilarious (?) story requests I receive from Annie and Paul (but mostly Annie), for their entertainment and sensemaking, and you tell me when to call the child psychologist.
- Tell me a story about when Dory got stung by jellyfish.
- Tell me a story about when Elsa killed a pig and cooked it for her family.
- Tell me a story about Bambi, when the hunters shot his mother and she died.
- Tell me a BRAND NEW story, and it has to be a LONG story. You can decide what it’s about.
- Tell me a story about Elsa when Elsa was a gnat and a spider got her.
- Tell me a story about when Elsa put her monster truck in the bath.
- Tell me a story about when Holly Shiftwell DIED.
Annie to me: When I grow up I’m going to move away from my family just like you moved away from yours.
But I’ll still visit you, and take pictures of you so I can remember what you looked like when you were alive.