(I am always so afraid of that creepy Teddy. I know he has been watching me since I was put into the Toy Box. I’m waiting for him to just reach out and grab me! Janice told me he is evil, and I believe it!)
So I’m still showing the new girl the ropes. But from what I’ve seen, I don’t think she is going to easily accept her newly diminished size and place in the scheme of things around here…(sigh) which means, for her, more trips to the Rocking Horse, and maybe even some “time outs” in the Doll House. I guess all I can do is warn her. She may have to learn her little lessons the hard way, just as I did.
Those of us dolls who live in the Toy Box are mostly in the care of Sally’s young niece, Emily. We all think she is still quite young to be caring for real little people like us, but no one asked our opinion. Sometimes she can be sweet and even affectionate to her dolls. Then she dresses us up in pretty doll clothes and we all have tea with some of the other dolls and the stuffed toys and its kinda innocent and fun, even if none of our feet can touch the ground.
But there are the other times when she decides to play other kinds of games with us. Like sometimes she wants to do “doll play” and will have us “kissing” the stupid bear (eew!) or the cute bunny, or one of the other dolls (I kind of enjoy that part). She also likes to play “Rescue Dolls”—which usually ends up with us trussed up like little Holiday packages with ribbon or string, and hanging from the chair or doorknobs for hours.
Sometimes she will get the “artistic” bug. When that happens, we will likely end up with little play stickers stuck all over our bodies (some in embarrassing places) and those things are really awful to get off without tearing the skin. Or she may decide to color on her diminutive dolls with her crayons (which can hurt)…luckily, Crayolas are washable these days. The worst is when she gets out her Glo-paints and covers our tiny forms from one end to the other with various shades of pinks and greens and blues (Sally showed up with her camera that day; she always seems to be there when the most humiliating things happen to us) It took days to get all the paint out of my hair!
I am even still teaching Emily piano (Sally insisted) or at least trying to. Now I have to perch up on top of the piano when giving a lesson, and when that girl pounds on the keys, it’s like sitting on a vibrator (which is enjoyable, but distracting). I do try to help her with her technique, but I realize that at my current munchkin size, I don’t really have any leverage to get her to do anything I tell her. I think now I am just there to listen to her play.
One time I actually suggested that she try change her fingerings, and the little bra---sorry, I mean “Miss”—got upset and snatched me off the piano. She ripped my little skirt off (we get to wear so little around here) and got into the “art drawer” and grabbed a tube of something, turned me over and rubbed some on my bare bottom. Then she stomped over to the piano and plumped me down on the keys and held me there. When she took away her hand, I couldn’t move. She had glued my tender derriere to the keys! I had to sit there for hours in nothing but my long green socks until Sally rescued me (But she was laughing the whole time) Again, I couldn’t sit down for days!
So you can see how it is; This little girl---I mean “Miss”-- has figured out pretty quickly who has the real power around here, and she is not shy about showing us “wee ones” who is really the boss. And her Aunt Sally pretty much lets her do whatever she wants with her dolls, as long as she doesn’t “break them.” Sometimes that little girl—I mean “Miss”--can be vindictive…and if you make the mistake of calling her “little” to her face, she has various ways of reminding you who is really the little one around here. Some are more humiliating than others.
And none of us here in the Toy Box want to be made any smaller than we are now, which she threatens us with every other day. I have seen some of the “Barbies”, as we call the 13” girls. They seem happy enough, but coping with Emily at 22“ is bad enough—at 13“ it would be a gigantic nightmare.
And now that Sally has instituted this whole new “post-hypnotic suggestion” thing for all of us in the Toy Box, so that her niece can control us more easily, it’s gotten even more frustrating. All she has to do is say “Ragdoll” and we are still conscious, but can’t move a muscle in our bodies. And I really hate it when I am not ready to go to sleep and she says “Nighty Night” and I am immediately out like a light. It’s feels so helpless and humiliating to be controlled like some kind of miniature puppet!
And then there are the times that Aunt Sally comes in and takes us out to where the Big People live. It’s always very tiring working as a mini-maid out there in the Big House; bustling around, schlepping huge objects around the house, clambering up to places that are now high and scary for little people like us. Usually we are wearing nothing but skimpy, frilly little aprons that have fronts but no backs. Sometimes we have on strappy high-heeled sandals that make our work more difficult, and add a scant 1/3” to our already greatly diminished height. I honestly think that one of Sally’s chief delights is watching all of us little ones scamper around trying our best to deal with our now giant-sized world, and sometimes we don’t cope with it very well. At times like that, I swear I hear her giggling just out of our sight.
But her rewards and punishments are much more enjoyable than the ones her niece thinks up. And at least our little lives as Sally’s dolls is never, never dull! All things considered, it’s a wonderful toy life.
Hey! Did someone say “Nighty Night”………?