Thursday, June 10, 2010


This is fake baby. That's her name. You know. . . because Coral is the real baby. We've called her that since always and Coral knows her as the same. She has a constant glaze of dirt over her embroidered, tiny smile. When we go on walks she's run over at least a half dozen times. Some days she's covered in tomato sauce and bananas. My mom bought her. Coral isn't horribly attached to where she gets upset if we don't have faux baby (sometimes we are fancy and call her that), but she goes most places with us. We thought it would be a good thing if she had something to cuddle in bed. A "transfer object" they call it. THEY. The baby experts. Anyway, we love her even if she never pulls her own weight (she could try cleaning up her jumper a bit and GET A JOB), and hides from us a lot. Coral likes to squish her while we are reading, which is pretty darling. She's a good doll.

We'll keep her.

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