He really only has two dollies. I'm not opposed to my boys playing with dolls, they just never showed much interest. The older one prefers trucks, and Baby likes to chase balls around the house (very puppy-esque).
Recently, when Babycakes reached for the old Cabbage, his big brother jumped up.
I gave him a dirty look. He knows the rule. He can't take a toy (or anything, for that matter) away from his brother without giving him something in its place.
"Mom! He'll suck on her head and get her all yucky!"
He has a point. Babycake is teething and nothing can escape his ever-present drool.
"Well, can you find something else for him to play with?" I ask.
"Sure!" his eyes light up. "He can have my other baby. He can slobber all over her, I don't care."
That poor baby doll! She's clearly the less-favored. Santa put her in his stocking the year I was pregnant with his brother - with the idea that now he would have his own baby, just like Mom. But he always resented her. Like she was a constant reminder that he was going to have to share Mom and Dad pretty soon. He's hardly played with her.
In fact, I haven't seen that doll in ages.
I do a quick scan of the living room. Crack open the toy chest. Nothing.
Babycakes is inching dangerously close to the Favorite Cabbage, ready to goober her as soon as his brother is out of sight. This could get ugly.
Without hesitation, Big Brother runs into the kitchen, clearly on a mission. When I hear him crack the fridge, I'm right on his tail. I'm wondering if he's trying to open some yogurt containers or crank the temperature down - two of his all-time favorite activities.
Perhaps he's forgotten about the dolly and moved on to the next thing? Wouldn't be the first time.
I stand back and watch. He digs through the fridge and pulls out his little Snoopy lunch box. Come to think of it, I've noticed it back there once or twice, but never investigated.
Purposefully, he sets down the lunchbox and opens it. Here's what's inside...
So he picks up the poor, frostbitten little thing, hands it to his brother and tells him, "Here. You can drool on her head if you want." (Which Baby promptly does.)
I have a flashback of when I was little and my cousin used to threaten to stick our Cabbages in the microwave and make "Fried Cabbage." And here I am, making "Frozen Cabbage" for weeks, never even realizing it.
Perhaps I need to clean out my fridge more often.