Doll House Diva

Of all the toys I've played with,
the first that I recall was not my own,
but treasure of the girl next door,
her mother (like mine) also managing
a men's dorm at the college where
our daddies taught. The toy was metal,
to my eyes enormous modern house with
latest furnishings in colors painted
on as well as plastic beds and sofas
no one ever really sat upon. You moved
a family around with wands that reached
beneath the floor, all magnetized. Perhaps
appeal was ease with which we
held control. Even small, not yet
in school, I knew I had no power
over what my life would be and hold
each day. But playing there with
metal parents, perfect pair of
children, I was boss. They had to
yield to my command, the joy of
make-believe and Let's Pretend
we never quite outgrow.



(c) Ellen Gillette, 2013