When I was a little girl, we lived in a very tiny trailer. My bedroom was not a separate room, but a small built-in bed on one side of a hallway as you went to the actual bedroom at the end.
This was when I was around age 5. My mother was a waitress, and my step-father, Glenn, was a line cook. Although I don’t remember that about him. All I remember is that he was usually home taking care of me while mom was at work.
He was an alcoholic, and a very mean one at that. It was not a happy home.
I didn’t have room for toys, but I had a shoe box filled with my most prize position, the greatest treasure in all the world – paper dolls. I loved my paper dolls.
I remember my mom coming home from work one night and she brought me a book of paper dolls. I was so excited! It was like Christmas and my birthday all at once, and for no reason, other than she loved me.
But when Glenn saw her walk in the door with those in hand, he got so angry. And they had a huge fight. But they always fought. He was mean to both of us.
But one day, Glenn took me to the department store to buy me a gift. Not sure why, but I was excited. We walked into the toy department and I still remember to this day his words, “You can have anything in here you want, except paper dolls.”
I was heart-broken. He knew that was the only thing I wanted.
It took me a long time to get over that crushing day, and the emotional negative effects it had on me.
But a few months ago I was shopping, and guess what I bought for myself? Yep! Paper dolls!