Rob carried the adequately finished dollhouse into the house at not quite 3 A.M. on Christmas morning with the rejoinder,
“Never let me do this again.”
I heard signs of life in BabyD’s room at about quarter to eight Christmas morning, but as she is well-trained, she didn’t come knocking until 8:15. By this time she had been downstairs and seen the dollhouse.
“Mom, you have got to see the size of my dollhouse.”
I joined her as we tiptoed about the living in the dawning light to inspect her new real estate because both her older sisters were asleep on the sectional.
It was minus the cedar shingles, interior paint and exterior trim, but BabyD was so thrilled she has yet to notice that Santa did not honor her request of Hannah Montana video guitar game. None of this mattered. Santa left her with a complete set of kitchen appliances, a new Barbie with dog and puppies (one that actually pees – and it is as disturbing as it sounds) and dvd’s enough to get us through Boxing Day.
By the time lunch rolled around, she’d created artwork for the walls and found furniture enough to make the new house quite homey. She has even taken her colored pencils to the roof in her design aspirations.
“I want to paint the inside,” she told Rob. “And I want a green roof.”
And then she threw her arms around him and said,
For weeks now Rob has been spending every spare minute in the garage and our joint response to her queries is that daddy is working on a project. So did she put two and two together this morning? Maybe. She is shrewd enough not to kill the golden Santa Clause on Christmas day however.
Happy Boxing Day!