nature vs. nurture

I’ve noticed a few things in the days leading up to and immediately following Christmas. Some of them have been a bit surprising.

First, Santa brought Coral (age 3) a really adorable dollhouse for Christmas, complete with a mom, dad, and cute little twin babies. And she got the world’s cutest dress from my dad and stepmom.

So I go in to play house with her, and then we get a knock on the dollhouse door. “Can Ahsoka come visit?” she asks me. Ahsoka is a girl character from Star Wars : The Clone Wars and hubby got Coral this little action figure for Christmas since she’s forever sneaking into her big brother’s room to play with his multitude of Star Wars stuff. Here I am, dancing around the mom and dad dolls, bathing the babies, rocking them to sleep, and Coral walks her Ahsoka up the stairs and into the living room for a visit.

Then Ahsoka’s “baby” needed changing. Apparently she guards Rotta the Huttlet, Jaba the Hutt’s creepy little son – the action figure has a backpack that Rotta rides around in. It looks like a freaky, demented baby slug circa Tremors. Coral absolutely loves this thing. Rotta must be cared for and tended to. Pink room, pink dollhouse, pink shirt, and Rotta.

Another observation? Our rabbits are funny. Snowball is about as fat as he can get without exploding, and I’m not sure Fuzzy ever sleeps with his eyes closed.

But I wouldn’t in this house, either.

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