The snow is not melting. Today the low was supposed to be 32, but we didn't make it to 27. Don’t get me wrong, I love the shimmery frosting that makes even on-campus housing look magical. However, I think the time spent indoors is encouraging my often overactive imagination to a point of borderline insanity. I’m afraid to talk to Josh and Ava about my observations, as we may be stuck together in 600 square feet for at least another 36 hours. I love them too much to frighten them. So, my blog faithful, the task of indulging my musings falls to you.
As I mentioned in my previous post, we’ve moved Ava’s dollhouse into the living room. The dollhouse has a revolving door for stray residents of The Hundred Acre Woods or Disney Princesses. While I often find myself longing for Norah Loving’s cozy laundry room, I never envy the too-often dinner guests of six doe-eyed princesses. Norah, the dollhouse mom, looks great for a woman who birthed three kiddos, most recently a set of twins. But with her frizzy hair and nursed-for-too-long chest I often worry about her and Nat’s relationship. Today as Ava was napping I began the task of gathering up the toys so that we could walk through our living room. Josh was outside scraping ice from our car doors so it was only fair that I work too. Imagine my disgust when I found Nat Loving, dollhouse dad, and Aurora, Sleeping Beauty, nestled a little too snuggly beneath the love seat. He just stared at me with his plastic poker face full of excuses like, “Ava put us there,” and “It’s really drafty in here.” Whatever Nat, I wasn’t born last night. All of my lingering fears for Norah materialized in that moment. As I write this Nat and Norah are sitting in their bedroom talking things out I guess. I don’t know how she can stand it. I can’t even look him in the eye.
Am I crazy? If so I come by it naturally. When I was in middle school my mom was convinced that the meteorologist on the channel 8 news detested the female anchorwoman. “Look at how he cut his eyes at her,” she’d say as my dad and I stifled a giggle. When the meteorologist moved to a new network she was even more confident in her suspicions. Once, when my sister was about three-years-old, we were sitting at the end of our sidewalk waiting for a family friend to pick us up. We had been close friends with their family for years, and she was rescuing us from our new baby brother. Sarah looked at me with a gleam in her eye and said, “Hey Autumn, when Mith Rayeanne geth here leth tell her my name ith Otha-thuth-thuth.” Problem 1: Obviously Rayeanne knew her name, and 2: Why would a sweet little girl with a lisp choose a name with five S’s in it? Thee? Nuth...er, See? Nuts!
Sometimes it’s easier to just accept the crazy and go with it. All I can say is Nat Loving better watch himself, I saw that Target had Ken dolls on sale this week.
