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In the third house I lived in as a child, any dolls or stuff animals we owned (I shared a room with my 2 sisters) had to fit either on top of our dresser or on our bed. That meant every morning and night a host of my younger sister's dolls and all my stuffed animals made the trip from bed to floor and back again. Except for once when we were made and we put everything on our older sister's bed, but that's another story. I never understood why my sister kept wanting more dolls, and can't say I was all that happy for her whenever she got them for Christmas or birthdays. In my mind it was just one more thing to do every day.
Some mornings I look at the bed and think the matching shams on a spare set of pillows would like nice, but then I think "WHY?" Am I the only one too practical for my own good out here?
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