It's only a doll, but what a doll she is.
I snatched this doll off the Smithsonian Institute's page. Usually there are few exciting illustrations.She may be a journalist, I'm not sure.
But for every doll that was made about five years of research went into the making of them. There was a Nez Perce doll - the Trail of Tears - that the native Americans finally gave permission to make.
As a child, I loved my dolls. Madame Alexander was my favorite. But they were snobby looking girls. So you might say I didn't really have a favorite.
But wait a sec. I just remembered STORYBOOK DOLLS.
Shall we take a gander?
I loved those big puffy skirts and blonde hair bc I wasn't a blonde. Oh, later on, I tried being a blonde. Made me look bald. Remember the saying, Blondes have more fun.
So I'm lying in bed, reading and falling asleep.
Shoooot! I thinks. Something is not right.
It's 9 15 pm.
Gotta go downstairs and take my nighttime pills.
Yes, my Tacky, my Pred, my Losartin, and that oval pill whose name reminds me of Jocasta or Joplin.
As I go downstairs I examine Nurse Harriet's Robe I'm wearing.
Tremendously expensive, I can tell.
The buttons on the cuffs are made of fabric.
Is it possible to write a true story about this for tomro's writing group?
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