Pretty dresses and ugly dolls
What’s that smell? Your hands smell funny. I don’t like it. Don’t try to feed me my food. I can feed myself. Don’t touch my food! I’m not hungry anymore.
Will you carry me, please? You smell nice and you are soft. Your fingers smell like bubbles. I like to play with you and the bubbles. Can we play again? Please? I like when you look at me.
I don’t like that doll you gave me. You can have it back. It is ugly, like you. It smells like you. Take it. Neither of us like it. It’s not the one I saw on TV, the one I asked you for and you said you would bring me a lot of days ago.
Why can’t it be just me and you again? We like to sleep late, together, and drink orange juice in bed and watch cartoons. It’s better when we are alone. Let’s stay alone again, okay?
What? Why do we have to go out again? I don’t want to go. Why do I have to wear that dress? It itches! Oh, no, not the little bows in my hair again, please. I know you are making me pretty, but then we can’t play with the bubbles anymore. Well, okay, I guess. If you want to.
Ssshhh. Yes, I’ll be quiet and sit pretty, I promise. I won’t make anyone mad at us. I’ll be good. Just don’t leave me. I’ll keep my dress clean and make sure the little bows don’t come out of my hair. Just don’t leave me alone.
10 January 2008 at 9:12 am
I am pretty sure that I will never just “sit and look at the pretty bubbles” ever again after reading this. Chilling, haunting, leaving lots of questions in the reader’s mind after only six brief paragraphs. And a voice that stays with you long after reading it.
10 January 2008 at 8:42 pm
Yes, unfortunately some beautiful things such as bubbles and songs like Mr November (ahem) have to get caught in our crossfire. But I think that through them, we can hopefully come to something even better. Some sort of freedom. I think. I hope.
10 January 2008 at 8:47 pm
Some of us never outgrow playing with dolls, I guess.
10 January 2008 at 9:09 pm
Oh, hello 2ndhandsoul! I most certainly haven’t outgrown dolls. Or bubble blowers, fairground rides, video games, skipping ropes, pogo sticks… I feel sorry for people who have. ;)
12 January 2008 at 10:04 pm
Nice’n’eery. Early childhood is so disquietingly potent and pertinent. I love bubbles too.
13 January 2008 at 8:52 pm
Drodbar, you get it. Thank you for that.