The problem is that my fiancée hates the old doll. She doesn’t understand that I need it. Kerri doesn’t understand that bad things happen when the doll is not around.
As long as I can remember the doll was there.
It has a soft round face and rather stiff arms and legs. The red shirt and blue pants are sewn right onto the doll’s skin. Its eyes are blue buttons.
I got the doll from my grandfather. He died shortly before my third birthday and gave me the doll probably a year before that.
I have photos of myself as a two year old. On every one of them the doll is with me. Continue reading