The Chelsea doll is lost, and “Barbie?” followed by tears is playing on a regular loop in our house. I think I am going to have to break down and buy another one. And let’s face it; that is the best way to find anything that is missing. As soon as I walk through the front door with a new one, the old one will suddenly materialize in the middle of the living room floor. I’m already mad about it.
The loss is distracting her from enjoying her new Barbie Dream House. Teghan likes things that come in groups of three, and she used to have three dolls. Up until the Chelsea tragedy, she was playing with this thing nonstop.
It’s not the dollhouse I would have liked as a kid. The living room is on the third floor, and there is an elevator from the closet to the bathroom. There is a fireplace sticker on the outside of the house that seems out of place. Who comes up with this stuff? Teghan doesn’t care. She likes to put the dolls on the potty and in the bed, and she enjoys pushing all the buttons that make noise.The hair dryer sound scared her for the first day, but has now become an obsession. Continue reading