The Dawning of a Confession

It's confession time once again.  I played with dolls when I was little.  I don't mean action figures, I don't mean G. I. Joe, I mean dolls.  I had a stuffed doll (who was clearly a girl based on the flowered shirt), who I defiantly named Freddie.  And I played with Barbies.  I have a clear memory of breaking my sister's Barbie's leg on Christmas eve and hiding behind my parents' door to hide from her.  It wasn't out of spite, I was just playing with it.  And I recall waking up one morning and finding I had a new Raggedy Andy in bed with me, courtesy of my oldest sister.  But my sister had received a Dawn doll.  Dawn was a knockoff smaller version of Barbie made by the Topper company in 1970.  I always assumed she was Barbie's little sister.  Anyway, I wanted my own Dawn.  And after much fussing, my mom bought me one.  I have no idea where my dad was during all of this.  I'm sure he wouldn't have approved.  I guess being the youngest, I was the invisible member of the family and went about largely unnoticed.

So it brought back these memories when Dawn and I were reunited once again at a garage sale yesterday.

She looked like she had never been played with, but put away and covered by years of grime.  She cleaned up pretty good.  Alas, our reunion will be short.  She'll be going up on eBay this week.