It seemed that Julie, just 17 months younger than the 4-year-old birthday girl, wanted joint custody of the pudgy, google-eyed Xavier Roberts creation that lay with its amphibian-like, pooched out cheeks and bald pate in her older sister's arms.
As the battle intensified, I was mystified. This was a doll whose face was like no newborn human I had ever seen. By comparison, even the most wrinkly, red-faced infant would look downright cherubic.
Somewhat ruefully, I remembered the first time I'd seen the words Cabbage Patch connected with a doll. Just one year earlier, in a local supermarket, at least 20 of the pot-bellied orphans had been waiting for adoption on the shelf above the store's produce bins.
"They'll never sell," I'd told my husband back when you could become a Cabbage Patch parent for a mere $25.
Within three days the shelf was empty, and the homely dolls were selling for upwards of a hundred bucks to anyone "lucky" enough to be the first one answering a classified ad.
Now, some twelve months later, my two youngest daughters lay in their shared bed. Christie's arms were locked possessively around the funny-looking toy, while Julie gazed with covetous eyes at her sister's birthday prize.
Pulling up the corner of the bedspread to wipe away Julie's tears, I tried to sympathize. "You want to share Christie's Cabbage Patch doll," I said.
For a moment Julie looked surprised. "No," she set the record straight. "I want to share her Cabbage Patch fwog!"
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Imagse from All Things Clipart |
Click on the link below for a darling infant-sized Cabbage Patch hat pattern:
