I got a phone call today that had me really worried. it was from my daughter, jane.
I picked up the phone and said, "hello?"
"dad? sniff, sniff..." (she was crying)
I panicked. was something wrong with my wife? what was wrong?!
"yes! jane! are you ok?! what's wrong?!"
"dad, sniff... you know holly right?"
"holly?! who's holly?!"
"holly...my doll..."
backstory: jane has a ton of polly pocket figures.they all basically look the same, but they all have different hairstyles.
so in jane's world of imagination, they are all sisters, and their names all rhyme: polly, dolly, molly, and her favorite, holly.
back to the story:
"yes- holly- did you lose her? is she lost in your room?!"
"no dad...sniff, sniff...its her...its her paint...sniff...its wearing off! we tried to draw her face back on with marker, but it doesn't look right...do you know where we can get a new one?"
holly's eye-brows and lip-paint had worn off from so much playing. normally I might think, "who cares?! you have a dozen of those dolls- and their heads are interchangeable, just name a different one holly." but when I heard that broken-hearted voice over the phone, my heart melted. I haven't heard that voice in a long time. my dad-instincts kicked in and I had to do something to help my girl. and I immediately recognized that this was an opportunity for me to step into one of my favorite roles: super-dad. and its been too long since I've saved the day.
I left the office and met up with deanna and jane. we went to a few stores. the polly we were looking for has blonde pony tails on the sides of her head- and after some detective work, we discovered that this particular polly only came with a specific yellow car:
pro-tip: don't be funny
9 years ago
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