It was a hair emergency that brought us to the American Girl Store in Dallas, TX.
While the clothes, books and dolls were nice, the real reason for our visit was simple: Nee’s 2-year-old doll needed a hair intervention. After a couple of years of being braided and re-braided, the poor doll’s hair was a knotted mess. The sheen and soft crinkles that prompted me to purchase the doll were long gone. If $10 could restore that luster, I was willing to spend it.
We picked a hair style and watched as grown women fastened a styling drape around the doll’s shoulders before gently placing her into a miniature stylist’s chair. It was going to take a while to get the doll back into shape, so Nee and I began to look around.
We had reviewed the rules before we left home. I’d pay for the doll’s new hair style and Nee would buy a pair of replacement glasses for the doll. That was all we were spending, I said. Unfortunately my will power was no match for the money making behemoth that is the American Girl Store. Everything from cute outfits to the extensive “self-help” book section screamed: buy me.
“Just don’t tell your dad how much all this stuff cost,” I told Nee as we approached the bubbly cashier with two books, a doll outfit, glasses, and the bill for the doll’s new hair style.
“OK, I’ll hide my bag from Daddy,” she responded.
“No, it’s okay. He’ll understand,” I assured her, but I was still a bit nervous about telling Fred about how much we spent during our shopping spree. But when I looked at Nee’s smiling at her freshly styled doll, all of my apprehension disappeared.
The hour Nee and I spent in the American Girl Store allowed us to recapture some of her little girl innocence. It was a safe place to play with dolls, pick ribbons, make crafts, and hang out with mom.
Suddenly, all of the money we spent seemed like a bargain.