Breakfast with Boy

When Dr. Peds was little, he had a special doll named Joey.  Actually, we sill have Joey, packed safely away in a box.  Joey went everywhere with Dr. Peds, from what I’ve been told.  You don’t often find boy dolls, so when I saw a Haba doll with a mop of yellow hair, I knew he would be the perfect Christmas present for my boy who loves to play pretend, loves babies, and loves taking care of things.  Not to mention, he was always stealing The Banana’s dolls, which did not go over well, as you might imagine.

Mr. TOF was delighted with his doll, which he has always referred to as “Boy.”  At first he signed “boy” when talking about his friend, and now he says it with his voice.  Boy does all sorts of wonderful things.  He reads books with Mr. Trouble on Feet.  He bops on the trampoline.  He does summersaults in the air.  He watches Mr. TOF cook in the play kitchen, and he is carefully tucked in under quack quack diti at night.  The other morning, Boy came to breakfast.  Of course he needed his own small bowl of frosted mini-wheat cereal.  Of course he needed his own spoon.  In fact, Boy snarfed up his cereal in no time flat and even needed seconds, and so did Mr. Trouble on Feet.  It was the most joyful breakfast we’ve had around here in weeks.