This weekend while out trawling for more crap I don’t need…aka yard saling….I spotted an American Girl doll. At first glance I sort of wasn’t sure what it was….and then realized what it in fact HAD been. My daughter was smitten….this doll NEEDED us. So we took what looked like American Girl Crack Head Hooker Doll home for the grand price of $1. There were comments made back in the car that we may have over paid.
Now for my big $1 purchase I was TOTALLLLY planning to send this poor thing back to the factory. Pricey for their little doll hospital, but not the same price as a new doll….birthday coming…. Score! Errr…no. Big cow eyes arrived and asked me to please try chipping the nail polish off her face….she’d be so sad to see her sent off (blah, blah, loved her SO much, blah, blah, something something). I resisted the urge to ask her if she had sniffed a residual line off the doll. The lip quiver and the fact she was about to burrow her face in this thing won me over to TRY cleaning it. *SIGH* I got the cleaners and went to work. I was not kind….and was shocked to find that other than the permanent tramp stamp and a slightly lopsided hair cut….the doll was in much better shape than she looked. All the damage was from cheap make-up….lots and lots and lots of it. So a few spa treatments (for who we would later determine to be named Felicity) and Daughter #1 is beyond happy. Frankly the doll looked more than a little relieved too. (Perhaps the make-over was the final key in the Witness Protection Program for her. She’s not talking and it may just be better for all of us if we don’t know).
So my little rant here is….and it is tiny…..but it has made me shake my head all day. The doll (that doll. over there…that we have owned for months and is currently gathering dust in the corner) that I nearly had to walk the street myself to afford…. The doll that never once made me worry that her Pimp was going to kick in the door at 3am, has now been tossed aside for $1 rehab girl. Which is lovely….but just a litttttle bit annoying. Even a doll tea party has been dismissed. Perhaps there is some concern that she’d slam a tea cup down, flip the table and tell Chrissa to “Go suck it?”
On the upside…if this is like her dream toy…. it’s sort of lowered the bar for Christmas. And that can’t be a bad thing…… Evel may also have a rehab buddy….and that can’t be a bad thing either. Or can it?
****Little side note. After I wrote this I went to do the nightly re-tucking in of the kids. When I turned the little night light on the doll was sitting up and staring right at me. Frankly it scared the crap out of me. I told her I was sorry for writing about her sorted past and tucked her in too. I made sure I closed the door tightly on my way out and tried not to think about those damn Chuckie movies. I offer this as my note of apology and request she not kill me in my sleep.
******And today’s side note. Not sure what happened. My girl was in bed playing with both dolls. Chrissa had crutches. I didn’t ask.
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Your blog is entertaining! Keep it up.