For long as I can remember, there was this
dollhouse store in town. When my kids were young, they loved to go. Because
everything was in miniature. Cases and cases, with buttons you could push, that
would make the shelves go round and round. Tiny Foods, tiny toys, tiny lives.
We had doll houses twice. Once for my firstborn, when he was four. And once for my second born, when she was maybe eight.
Other than that, you would go to the dollhouse store for either school projects, little gifts, or funny little tiny things we would construct, on dark rainy days, or during long summer vacations, when all the friends were away.
All my kids grew up, and then I would drive by, seeing the sign. Once or twice I went in, to find tiny things, as a surprise for the kids I worked on in my practice.
Always, if you want to sit next to a little kid, it's good to have enthralling things for them to play with, while they sit quietly, and you assess and work on their organs, and align their spine .
Last time I went, the owner was sitting behind the main counter, and the room was probably 85°. His wife had died some years before, and the whole place was covered with a thin layer of dust. He was maybe in his late eighties.
I can imagine all the various reasons why he wanted to keep up. Doing what he always did.
Months later, there is a closed sign on the front door. And I reminded myself that, if we are lucky enough to be here long enough, this is the thing that happens.
We had doll houses twice. Once for my firstborn, when he was four. And once for my second born, when she was maybe eight.
Other than that, you would go to the dollhouse store for either school projects, little gifts, or funny little tiny things we would construct, on dark rainy days, or during long summer vacations, when all the friends were away.
All my kids grew up, and then I would drive by, seeing the sign. Once or twice I went in, to find tiny things, as a surprise for the kids I worked on in my practice.
Always, if you want to sit next to a little kid, it's good to have enthralling things for them to play with, while they sit quietly, and you assess and work on their organs, and align their spine .
Last time I went, the owner was sitting behind the main counter, and the room was probably 85°. His wife had died some years before, and the whole place was covered with a thin layer of dust. He was maybe in his late eighties.
I can imagine all the various reasons why he wanted to keep up. Doing what he always did.
Months later, there is a closed sign on the front door. And I reminded myself that, if we are lucky enough to be here long enough, this is the thing that happens.
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