Dads: Paper Dolls.

We had a chocolate, tan and white rug that lay in the middle of the floor right in between the TV and the couch. It was a cushy rug in which you could, if you were  a child, immerse almost 1/2 of your finger. I used to push all of my fingers into the rug and make several indentions, draw a smilie face, write my name – it was a malleable rug.

My dad is wonderful with small children. He has a perfect sense of how to capture, enlighten and draw out the essence of a child’s imagination.

Dolly Dingle came to visit my house when I was probably 6. I can say, pretty clearly, that I was 6 because I cut all of my hair off in Kindergarten and was accused of looking like a boy.

Dolly Dingle came in a 20-30 page book, and she had many friends, parents, some pets and about 15 outfits. She also had hats and shoes.

Dad and I had a day together, and I introduced him to Dolly Dingle. When Dad met her, she was just a little girl wearing what any paper doll wears – some odd looking 1920’s bloomers and a tank-top.

I sat there, on the rug, and asked Dad if he would help me cut out the paper dolls so I could play with them. My 6 yr old fingers weren’t precise, and I had a tendency to accidently snip the folds that were supposed to keep the hats and dresses on.

Dad sat there with me; he trimmed and snipped and chatted with me about Dolly Dingle and what she was up to.

When we finished – we had cut out the entire 20-30 page book – every outfit, every pet, neighbor, parents and hat. Dad cut out her name, and we picked out an outfit for Dolly (in all of her various positions). We dressed every one of them, and we stuffed them into the rug.

They all stood up – the entire Dolly Dingle community – ready for the festivities of play time with a dad and his daughter.

My dad didn’t have a son to play football with, but regardless – he cut out all of his daughter’s paper dolls and played make-believe with her until she was satisfied.

Lora