When I was a little girl, my Grandpa bought me a dollhouse.
I loved that dollhouse.
There was a special dollhouse store in a town about twenty minutes away, and on Sundays, my Dad would sometimes drive Erin and I or Gail and I over there, where I would purchase new furniture or new dolls for my doll family.
I decorated that house over and over again.
As an only child, I played with those dolls into the wee hours of the night, long after I, and the other neighborhood kids, had been called inside because the streetlights were on.
I would often pretend I was Susan from my all-time favorite children’s book, Big Susan.
(If you haven’t read this book, you must. If you have a young daughter, grand-daughter or niece, it’s a beautiful gift and a story that stands the test of time.)
I loved that dollhouse.
However, as children do, I grew up.
My parents moved when I was in college, and they brought the dollhouse with them, and for the past 22 years, the dollhouse has sat in their basement.
Unused. Collecting dust. Unloved.
Until today.
My Mom brought the dollhouse to our house, today.
My Mom and Monkey Girl toiled on the back deck, using bleach to clean up that house, bringing it back to life.
The monkeys immediately went to work, putting in the furniture, decorating with their own style and flair.
I do have to say that they are NOT decorating it the way I had it, and it is taking every single fiber of my being not to let my control-freak nature out and tell them that that’s not where the baby sleeps, and the piano doesn’t belong in the attic, and the kitchen should not be in that tiny front room, but so far, I’ve kept my mouth shut and have been very supportive.
They’ll go to bed soon.
I’ll redecorate then.
I love to hear them down there, decorating, playing, and loving what once was mine to love.
There’s nothing sadder than an old toy, forgotten and unloved.
I’ve seen the Toy Story movies.
I know of what I speak.
There is nothing more wonderful than an old toy rediscovered and loved.
And while I was joking about redecorating while they are asleep, I have a feeling that when I am in the basement, every now and then, I might just take a turn with the dollhouse and feel the wonder of being little again and letting my imagination soar.
