I have just been mocked, mocked. So mocked. I told a friend–mother of a 4th grade girl–that this coming Wednesday, I will be taking Lily to Boston to the American Girl Doll store, to buy her a doll.
We do not own an American Girl Doll. We do not own one, and Lily has been asking, for the past year, when she would be old enough for one. Soon, I kept saying. Her friends began to acquire them, one by one, and Lily would report. Liz has Rebecca, and Harper has Julie (I probably have this totally wrong) and Kate has one, and Emma has Matilda, Freja AND Pocahontas! (Ok, totally make up those last ones.) Jessica’s mom calls. Can Lily bring her American Girl doll over for their playdate? Well, no.
But honestly, she’s been a complete good sport. She has a doll, a slightly smaller one, but with the necessary real hair, that she says is “almost like an American Girl Doll.” She took that to Jessica’s without a word. Â She has seen, but not really commented on, the catalog (thanks, Jessica’s mom!). She doesn’t seem to want a bike for said doll, or a pony. Just the doll, just the one single doll.
Of course, all that may change once she sees the store. Lily doesn’t even know there IS an American Girl Doll store. It has simply never come up. Because we live in the middle of nowhere and watch only DVR’d tv, she also doesn’t know about Toys R Us or any of its many friends. Last week, my 8-year-old asked me what the “Build-a-Bear” workshop was (I think it was in the context of the Macy’s parade). Truly, where we live is so removed from reality as to be laughable, and I remember that every time they approach, with trepidation, an escalator.
But putting that aside, we are embarking on the AG doll train. Lily is a doll kid–she plays with them, dresses them, combs their hair–and she has been, all of her life. She’s only five, and from what I’ve seen around here, the AG dolls hold their appeal until 4th or 5th grade. To be honest, I’m relieved to be doing something so normal, and so easy. None of my other kids have ever shown any interest in any particular toy trend yet, so it’s easy enough to embrace this one. And–if I pay cash–maybe we can stay off the mailing list. Let us hope that Harper’s grandma doesn’t go for the pony.