Even More Stubble

Millie's gift was this square-bottomed bag I sewed for Gracie, her much-loved alter ego. Doesn't she look concerned and prepared?


She has good reason to look prepared, because inside the crazy-colored lining are eight bandages, an empty ointment tube, and popsicle stick splints.


The bandages are fastened with velcro tabs, and they should look familiar to at least one of you. (Thanks for cast-offs, McGamma! They were the perfect cloth for these.)


After Millie oohed and ahhed, she THREW Gracie to the floor and said, "Oh, no! GRACIE! You need to be more careful! Are you hurt? Here, let me get you a bandage." It was at this point that John turned to me and muttered, "This gift was probably a bad idea..."

The girls quickly discovered inexplicable wounds on all of their dolls and lined them up for treatment.


For some reason, Millie thought that the red-hot burners were a suitable recovery room.


So much so that other patients soon filled all the available burners beds.


Then, inevitably, they ran out of patients and began applying bandages to their own previously unnoticed injuries.


(Apologies for their unkempt appearance. John had just made them breakfast shakes, and I hadn't yet plucked the birds out of their hair in order to brush it.)

This girl needed a neck brace because...I suppose because...well, obviously, because she has a neck.



My very favorite part of this half-hour or so occurred when I asked Millie if she wanted to treat Laura's injuries. Laura-- or Beloved Laura, as Millie quite often calls her-- is the doll my mom gave Millie when she turned three years old, and she sleeps with her every night. "Laura?" Millie said with genuine bewilderment, "But Laura doesn't HAVE any injuries."

Meet Beloved Laura.

She's a cloth-bodied doll with button hinges, but her head, unfortunately, was made from hollow, breakable plastic with cloth stretched over it. Yes, I once had to sew her nose shut to keep the broken pieces from spilling out.