Back in December an elderly neighbour gave us a ring. He had some old dolls that belonged to his late wife and did the children want them? Well, you can’t really say no can you. Diligently I took Lydia round to see Uncle Clive. There on the kitchen table were a number of dolls laid out……. all of them large. “Take what you want” said Uncle Clive. Lydia’s eyes lit up at this. I staggered back over the garden wall laden down with what seemed a tonne of dollies. Tiny Tears and Baby Annabell they are not. One of them is at least 18 inches tall. Lydia’s name for her is ”Daisy”. My name for her is “Chucky”.
Chucky’s first night with her new family was spent in the car. I’m sorry but I don’t do dolls, never have done. Cuddly, fluffy toys are more my thing. My imagination was running riot and as Chucky was making me feel uncomfortable she had to go! Steve put her in the car, strapped her in (clunk, click every trip!) and then double locked the car (to be on the safe side!). She looked like a toddler left home alone. Fortunately, this was done under cover of darkness so hopefully Uncle Clive didn’t see what we were up to.
In the morning Lydia asked me why “Daisy” was sitting in the car. I gaily replied that Chucky fancied a late night drive and sheepishly bought her back in. The second night Lydia wanted Chucky in her bedroom. So that is where she now sits.
Recently we decided to do a car boot sale. Somehow, Chucky found herself in the box of stuff to go. Steve went to the car boot with Chucky and came back from the car boot……….with “Chucky”. Apparently someone said something about “giving them the creeps” (I assume they meant the doll and not my husband). Chucky spent that night in the conservatory, in the box, covered by an old duvet cover.
Lydia was rather cross at our attempts to re-home Chucky even though she doesn’t play with her. So at the moment, Chucky is back in the bedroom.
Just seen an advert in the local paper…..there’s another car boot this weekend…………….STEVE!