After a long and tiring day at work my only joy is to look at her playing with the doll house. Acting like a mother already, a nourishing mother to her doll. I am talking about my 8 yr old, Amy. There she is, cooking a delight with the plastic ingredients after remodeling the house twice this day.
Her doll house that she got on her birthday, in no time became her favourite toy. She keeps it neat and pretty while making a mess in the real one. Hiding a present that I brought her today behind myself, I approached her. She is so focused on the cooking that she didn't even notice me coming, "I am hungry, Can I have something to eat?" I asked her who burst into a laugh looking at me. "It's not done yet."
"I have something for you," I showed her the present, another doll for the doll house. She was super excited on seeing it. She took it from my hands and hugged the doll, she introduced the new doll to the old one. "Now let's make room for the new friend." She looked confused.
"How about here? This empty room," I pointed towards an empty room in the doll house.
"No! Not here," she said "It's a secret room of Miranda, no one's allowed there." I thought about what she meant about a secret room for a doll. Although a child's play but I was curious to know her idea of a secret room.
"What is need for a secret room?"
"Miranda keeps her secrets in this room and I am not allowed to know." I was intrigued by my little girl and a bit scared at the same time, "Are you keeping secrets from me too?"
I looked in her eyes avoiding my gaze adorably, "may be?"
"Tell me! then," I asked out of worry.
"But we don't tell our secret to anyone." She turned to the cooking again.
"I am your mom, you can tell me."
She pouted and looked at me, "I don't look in Miranda's secret room, why do you want to know my secrets?"
Just knowing that she is keeping secrets bothers me, if it's trifles like a C in the test or my favourite lipstick that she ruined I am fine but just the thought that it may be something big that she isn't telling me gets me on my edge. She is a child, giving a personal space to her doll and I think it's a very mature behaviour but I as an adult can't seem to do that. Knowing the existence of a secret room makes us want to open it.
""Don't worry! It's nothing big." She said making me wonder if she is really an eight year old.