When I was about 4 years old, I spotted a truly lovely doll stroller in the toy section of the JC Penney catalog. It was navy blue with white rubber wheels and had a canopy with little fringe on it. What truly made it special, though, was it was a double seater. Not only did it have a comfy seat facing forward, it had once facing backwards. Just perfect for taking my beloved Drowsy and Emily dolls out for walks. No longer would I have to make the heart-breaking choice between them. I could take them both!
Dutifully following my military dad’s rules, I carefully entered the stroller on my Christmas list: Description, catalog name, page number, and price. I was sure Santa knew how much I wanted this stroller. And how much Drowsy and Emily would enjoy outings together. Christmas came and…no stroller. Christmas came again and…no stroller. That stroller was on my Christmas list for a good 4 or 5 years and it never came.
I eventually outgrew the need for dolls and strollers but I never outgrew my wistfulness for that gift that never came. I talked about “never getting that stroller” so often, it became a family joke. Even Rob, after just two years of marriage, grew tired of the story and bought me a doll stroller for Christmas. I was 24 and fell in love with him all over again for his kindness but…it wasn’t the right stroller. It was plastic and pink and there was only room for one doll. We kept it around as a joke for a few years but eventually it found its way to Goodwill for a little girl who would truly appreciate it.
I wasn’t sure why I never got that blue stroller, so I recently asked Dad. I could hear in his amused sigh him thinking “At 39, we’re STILL talking about that silly stroller???” But we had a good laugh as he explained that in the multiple pages of each year’s Christmas list, it wasn’t easy for Santa to figure out which toy was the most important to bring. Sounding a little apologetic, he said, “I guess we just missed the mark.” Now that I know I wasn’t being taught some eternal lesson about not always getting what you want, I think I might finally let go of The Stroller Story.
P.S. This story was recently published(!). If you want details, shoot me an email.
2 comments:
Between picturing you picking out your dream baby carriage, and sending a letter to a puzzle manufacturer with a traced illustration of the missing puzzle piece, you've created a very endearing portrait of you as a kid ... wish I knew you then! Of course, you're endearing as an adult, too ... glad I know you now.
-Zeke
Awwwww! Thank you, Zeke. I'm getting all sniffly here. :-)
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