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I feel like an utter cad. The meanest mama around. Not quite Satan incarnate, but close.
What did I do?I got rid of a doll. This doll:
That's Baby Judy, a few years back. Baby Judy looks nice in that picture, but fact is, she was old.
Her eyebrows had been ripped off. Her matted hair wig had been glued back on. She had pen on her face. Her clothes were long since gone. She was possibly secondhand, but probably thirdhand.
The reason that this post is under a cut is because I'm afraid the Babby will see it.
And then we'll have to go on another fruitless search for poor Baby Judy.
Now, Baby Judy had been living in the basement and then the attic for, oh, about six months. In that time, the Babby has received numerous baby dolls as gifts.
Baby Judy? Hasn't come up once.
Until today, when something reminded the Babby of Baby Judy and she asked me to find her. *face palm*
It was only a week ago that Baby Judy "moved out." Had this come up a week earlier, it wouldn't have been a problem.
But today, I actually cried my eyes out - in private, of course - more than once.
Because more than once is how many times she said things like "Papa, you're such a good finder... can you find Baby Judy?" and "That's Baby Judy's stroller!"