As I was walking down a toy aisle the other day on my way to the milk and bread aisle in one of those big conglomerates my heart almost ended up in my throat. Hurrying along I hadn’t noticed I was surrounded by dolls. All of a sudden I heard some loud giggling and chattering, and I was the only human in the aisle. That’s when my heart did its flip. Looking around, I realized a group of dolls perched on a shelf were programmed to react when someone walked by. Moving in a little closer, I took a good look at the culprits; my first connection with dolls since my daughters had outgrown them.

Without a doubt, they were ugly. Obviously wired with some sort of a computer chip they kept doing their act as I stood there looking at them. The packaging was glitzy. Photos of little girls perfectly dressed with perfect hair and smiles playing with the dolls would appeal to any little girl staring at the box. But when it got right down to the doll itself there was nothing that would attract a buyer like me to actually pay for it. But if there’s a TV campaign behind the thing, it will fly off the shelf-ugly or not. I’d gone through this with my oldest daughter when, at that age, was frantic over a certain doll featured in well-produced TV ads aired daily.

My daughter was hooked early in the Christmas season. Anytime anyone asked her what she wanted that doll was at the top of her list. She told Santa about the doll when she sat on his lap. It was her number one most wanted item in her letter to him. So, as we parents do come every December, I went searching for this doll-and found her. I wrapped her up and put her away until Christmas morning.

Santa was a hero on December 25th. My daughter giggled and jumped up and down when she tore the paper off the box and found the doll of her dreams. Because we still had to have breakfast, pick up, and get to where we had to go that day, I told my daughter that when we got back home she could feed her new baby doll just as all the little TV girls had done. That pacified her. Although she carried it around all day, it wasn’t until that evening-back home and in her new pajamas-that she sat the doll down in her new doll highchair-and fed her. It was magic!  The doll “chewed” and “swallowed” her food just like it did in all those commercials. After feeding time was over, my daughter cleaned her off and picked her up to give her a mommy approval hug-and that’s where the love affair ended. Gravity took over-for what goes in must come out and when it did my daughter lost it. That was the one and only time she fed the doll. That was the last time she held the doll. I later figured out that’s why diapers had been included.

Sometimes high tech is good. It teaches. It broadens horizons. It makes sense. But having dolls giggle and chatter and sing and replicate an after-eating human bodily function is, in my humble opinion, unnecessary. Dolls should be huggable and loveable-cuddly and smell like talcum powder. Your only little once-why make the real thing-so real?

My favorite doll was soft and cuddly and had two little braids. It didn’t jump through hoops or sing along with me or dance or recite the alphabet. Rather, it was always there for me as I played and pretended.  It couldn’t break down or stop talking or have a nasty accident when without a diaper. In other words, it was reliable and reliable, whether you’re young or old, is a good thing!