I went past the doll house
the other day and found the entire doll family (and various friends and fairytale characters in their underwear) crammed onto the couch watching TV.
I hate TV. I hate what it does to my family. Don't get me wrong. I watch the evil thing. It has the same square-eyes effect on me as anyone else, but I try to keep TV watching to a minimum.
That goes for dolls, too.
So one night while the girls slept I wall papered another room, varnished the floors in two others, and made itty bitty sheet music and put the brother at the piano. Dad was in the kitchen cooking, mama was changing the baby's dipe, and the TV was friendless. Rapunzel was on the toilet (hey, we all do it, right?).
The girls got a real kick out of finding it. And really they play beautifully
with the dollhouse. There is never a mess in any room (I know, really? So
not fair), though there are often dirty dishes in the sink. I love to
sit nearby and pretend to read while I listen to them play.
It is my new thing, now.
Each night I make a tiny "thingy" for the dollhouse.
The next night it was little throw rugs.
Last night it was eeinsie-weensie family photos and a tiny-whiny book. I
posed the dad and brothers in a family-reading session.
Tonight, I have a zebra rug and a little lamp in the works.
Vincent Van Gogh also painted me a micro-copy of Starry Starry Night for tomorrow.
Thanks, Vince.
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