The kids came over for dinner tonight. While I was cooking, the babies got bubble baths (magic potion to keep small children happy and not bored). After bath, Dmitri promptly fell asleep, and we were content to let him snooze while we ate. Val put on an Elsa dress-up dress, and flitted around the house, sometimes watching Tangled, sometimes dragging one of my childhood toys around and talking to it.
The dress she wore is nearly identical in color to a Cinderella dress that one of my grandmothers made for me a million years ago, that I wore every chance I could get. I have a vivid memory of wearing it one night when I accompanied mom to choir practice at the Presbyterian church, which was held in the balcony over the back of the sanctuary. The stairs in this choir loft were steep, and at the very top there were a couple window wells. I remember playing in those window wells, in my blue dress, having a grand old time, ignoring the choir. My mother says she doesn't remember the dress, so I went looking through the couple photo albums I have from that time frame, hoping to see it. I looked through pictures for over half an hour, never finding one of it, but man, did I see a lot of other gorgeous clothes my grandmothers made for me. They were the best.
The toy Val has adopted brings back a lot of memories too. It is a large stuffed tiger, who I dressed in a blue flight suit that I used to wear when I was two or three. (I had a pink flight suit too, which I think was smaller than this blue one.) I am not sure I can give her complete possession over my tiger. I have a bond with him, you know. When I was maybe 9, my mom was working at the local newspaper in town, and across from the building where it was published was a mini mall. Inside there was a toy store called the Peppermint Lion, and on days when I was visiting mom at work, I'd go across to the toy store and browse and dream. I would visit the tiger there when I could, desperate to bring him home with me. I'm not sure whether he was a birthday or Christmas present, or whether I finally just wore my family down and someone bought him for me. I just remember the absolute joy of having him at my house, hanging out and listening to Shaun Cassidy records together. Okay, maybe I was a wee bit old to be so obsessed with a stuffed tiger, but he and I were destined to be together. This was even several years before I ever discovered Calvin and Hobbes, but I have to wonder whether that comic strip was actually a fever dream that H.B. (the tiger) and I came up with. Maybe Bill Watterson owes me royalties.
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