This may ruin my reputation, but it just had to be shared. Anyone who knows me knows I’ve never been a girly-girl. I don’t like to shop, I love sports, guns and muscle cars, and I will wear the same dang pair of shoes til the soles come off.
But somewhere buried underneath all that is still a little girl…and that little girl loves dollhouses. For some reason I have always been completely enamored with dollhouses. Weird…I know… but bear with me here.
When I was little I always wanted to build a giant dollhouse…a real wooden one with all the little details of a perfect little house. My grandpa would take me to Hobby Lobby and we would look at all the dollhouses and miniatures. We would spend hours looking through catalogs of dollhouses planning out which one we were going to make someday. (Did I mention he had the patience of a saint and I was spoiled rotten?)
Honestly, after I lost him I never really thought about building one again. I still loved them. But he was the only one who really knew how much I wanted one. And he was gone.
I saw a dollhouse kit when we were at Hobby Lobby a couple of weeks ago and told that story to my husband. This weekend, he got me a dollhouse kit. As ridiculous as I’m sure it sounds to all the normal people of the world, I don’t think there was anything he could have gotten me that would have meant more. I cried.
Then he spent the evening last night helping me put it together… helping me do the one thing my grandpa and I left unfinished. I made a mistake at one point and he joked “oh that’s no big deal, we’ll just put a garage there.”
It was exactly what Papa would have said.
Last night before we went to bed I stood looking at my giant dollhouse and I could almost hear my grandpa smile and say ” I see you got your dollhouse, Tootsie.”
Yes I did, Papa. But even better…I got a real good man.