For starters, let's address the fact that one of my readers, a woman named Susan, apparently owns an antique doll that has real human hair. Real human hair that came off her Nana's head.
Susan said that it "used to scare the crud out of me as a kid; now it stays in the top of a closet, turned backwards."
Yeah, right. Used to scare the crud out of you.
Susan said she would take a picture of this doll and send it to me, and I promise I'll share it with y'all when I get it.
Also, I realized that antique dolls are like roaches. If you see one, you know there's a nest of them somewhere else in the house. When you fall asleep, they will turn into Children of the Corn. So another thing that freaks me out is collections of antique dolls.
I hope Susan is reading this. She needs to be checking that closet to make sure the Nana Hair Doll hasn't let some little friends in.
And then there's corner dolls. They're also called "pouty dolls," and "time-out dolls." The only possible use I can see for these things is to recreate a trauma scene for training psychiatric professionals.
Corner dolls are possibly scarier than regular dolls because you can't see their faces, so you can't even imagine what they're plotting against you. And then there's the fact that they don't actually have faces.
Plus, antique dolls pretty much come in one basic costume: Tiny Crazy Cat Lady. Corner dolls, on the other hand, come with all kinds of outfits. There's biker chick corner doll. (What is she sad about? She has chaps!) There's Texas Longhorns cheerleader corner doll. (Still bummed about that loss to UCLA.)
Okay, actually? The Johnny Cash one is kind of funny. What you'd really have to do with that one is set it up in a corner with a little CD player under it, so that when people come in, it seems like he's on time-out singing "I Walk The Line."
Phew. I feel better now, don't you? Thanks for letting me get that off my chest. Now let's all sit in a circle and sing "I Walk The Line."