People who know me know that I am prone to the superlative. ("Sweet Home Alabama was the best movie I have EVER seen!") But here’s a statement no one can contest: In the history of the world there has never been anyone who has enjoyed dollhouse play more than my six-year-old. As far back as I can remember, Abby has been creating little worlds for herself -- and it doesn’t matter if those worlds exist inside $250 Playmobil Victorian Dollhouses, on top of antique marquetry boxes, or on a restaurant table where the only dolls available for play are fashioned out of sugar packets. (I’m not making that up.)
Hidden Dollhouse
Hidden Dollhouse
Hidden Dollhouse
People who know me know that I am prone to the superlative. ("Sweet Home Alabama was the best movie I have EVER seen!") But here’s a statement no one can contest: In the history of the world there has never been anyone who has enjoyed dollhouse play more than my six-year-old. As far back as I can remember, Abby has been creating little worlds for herself -- and it doesn’t matter if those worlds exist inside $250 Playmobil Victorian Dollhouses, on top of antique marquetry boxes, or on a restaurant table where the only dolls available for play are fashioned out of sugar packets. (I’m not making that up.)