THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: TUESDAY, June 28, 1994 TAG: 9406250031
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY KRYS STEFANSKY, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: 940628 LENGTH: Medium
Dramatic? You betcha.
{REST} Emma had been sitting in her stroller, Dolly clasped casually in one hand - sometimes even dangled over the side and rudely dragged along the floor - while Emma looked around and pointed with the other. I wasn't quite so nonchalant. Over the past few months I've learned to shop with one eye on my errands, the other on Emma and some sixth sense always keeping track of Dolly's whereabouts.
Nevertheless, we lost Dolly somewhere between Hecht's and Leggett's. I noticed as we waited for Leggett's elevator.
``Where's Dolly?'' A chill went up and down my spine. My friend and I dashed back toward Hecht's as I agonized.
``She won't be able to sleep. She won't be able to nap. She won't be able to ride in the car!''
Within milliseconds I had an awful mental picture of me pacing the floor in Emma's room every night for weeks while she wailed sleeplessly for Dolly. I raced along the mall, Emma's voice - ``Daw-ee, Daw-ee'' - getting louder and more insistent from the stroller as the minutes ticked by.
``Let's just buy her something else,'' said my friend.
Through clenched teeth I told her something else won't work. It's got to be Dolly.
Dolly has been with Emma for all 18 months of her life. When Emma was a baby, Dolly sat in the bassinet, her perfectly round, too-blue eyes staring at Emma's sleeping face.
As the months went by and Emma went slowly from cute lump to wiggly baby, she started clutching Dolly's finger- and toe-less limbs in her sleep.
At night, Stan or I would climb the stairs to Emma's room to check on her and come back to report.
``She's got Dolly by the leg.'' ``She's eating Dolly's hand.'' ``Come upstairs, you've got to see this. She's got her feet propped up on Dolly.''
Little did we know that Dolly would soon haunt us.
That thing. That half human, half animal dressed in the white and blue suit with bow tie and ears sticking up from the top of its head like a bear, began to have to go everywhere with Emma.
Dolly hangs around during diaper changes, sits on the counter during breakfast. She reads books with us, goes on stroller rides, runs errands, takes naps and goes night-night. When we go on trips I pack Dolly even before anyone's clothes.
And now, here I was, frantically retracing my steps through the mall, looking for Dolly even in other children's strollers as we whipped past.
``Please,'' went my silent prayer, ``let someone find it and turn it in.''
I pleaded with salesclerks who I imagined had to have seen something. My friend headed toward the mall's information booth.
Just as I came out of Hecht's empty-handed, here came Dolly, safe from the lost and found.
``Daw-ee,'' screeched Emma happily.
Me? I burst into tears. by CNB