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It was the hair that nearly killed me. What seemed like a million strips of brown yarn had to be woven into a braided cap for O’s Waldorf-style doll. It took me two years to finish the doll, just in time for his fifth birthday.

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His eyes are green because I was sick of brown.

I wasn’t sure if O would love him, but he did. Maybe it’s because he’s heard V talk about how much she loves her handmade doll, Bluebell for years.  The kids decided to name him Firework, because of his hair.

O sleeps with him every night, though he added:

I try to but sometimes my feet kick him away.

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