This is Mary Jane.
She is a paper doll created by Milton Bradley Co. in the 1950’s.
This is me, created by Mom and Dad in the 1950’s.
This is Paper Doll Me created by, well, me a few days ago.
Why a paper doll? Why here? Why now?
So, this isn’t my brain on drugs. This is my brain “memory sparking”. I think I’ll call her “Paper Doll Sparky”. Maybe “P.D. Sparky” for short. Or “Sparky” for shorter.
I can tell by looking at her that me, I mean Sparky, and Mary Jane wouldn’t have had a lot in common back then. Not that you should judge someone by appearance but she looks like Miss Goody Two-Shoes. I bet she followed all the rules and never once tried to do something new, challenging or creative.
Too bad, so sad.
I bet she never once hid in a gutter, yelled at her mother, or grew to get caught by the principal for smoking cigarettes in the girls bathroom in middle school (we called it Junior High back then).
In fact, she looks just like Lori, the tattle tale girl who ratted me out for lying to my mother when I was five.
So, I stole, I mean borrowed, some of Mary Jane’s clothes. They are mine now and Sparky can wear them for better purposes than to have mundane tea parties with preppy little girls who never climb trees or scrape their knees.
But don’t let the clothes fool you. Wearing one of Mary Jane’s prim and proper dresses won’t take the girl out of her true skin. (Besides, she’s made out of cardboard).
She’s packing up now, getting ready to see what kind of troubles her memories will stir up. As Dad used to say, “Time to separate the sheep from the goats.”
To be continued …