The Scene of the Crime

The Crime Scene
Originally uploaded by sammi's mom

Samantha’s doll house is a wonderful, wonderful thing, but it harbors some pretty sinister activity. In a world where television is dominated by crime dramas such as Law & Order (original, SVU, Criminal Intent and probably a slew of others I eventually learned to tune out), CSI (original, Miami, New York and probably a slew of others I eventually learned to tune out), Criminal Minds (just the one), Bones (again, just the one…for now…), the Evening News, as well as a slew of others I eventually learned to tune out, I’ve become quite sensitive to things that seem a bit off. I do get a little paranoid, generally, now that I know that just about anything could happen just about anywhere, even in our dull, ordinary lives. It really is quite scary. A child’s doll house should not be a scary place. Ever. But I tend to see the dark side of its pink walls and floral bed-coverings, its stainless steel appliances, musical changing table, and shiny, plastic twin bassinettes. Samantha plays with the dolls, particularly enjoying seating the mommy, daddy, young daughter and twin boy and girl around the table, pretending that they’re eating their breakfasts. She exclaims, “Oh no!” whenever one of the dolls falls off of its chair, and asks for help to make it right. And make it right, I do. Before I go to bed each night, I put each doll in a comfortable, innocent position, making sure no baby is left unattended on the changing table or floor, or even left alone at the dining table. Nobody is left fully-clothed in the bathtub, and generally I just make sure everyone is tucked carefully into their beds. If I don’t do that, it becomes something other than a doll house—it becomes a crime scene. That’s what I call it, when out of earshot of Samantha. One day, just for fun, I may wrap it in yellow tape, just because. The photo above is how I found it yesterday—a crime in progress!