Trying to make one's child a sentimental, thoughtful gift can lead one to the strangest circumstances. Case in point:
I wanted to find a dolly whose hiney I could paint and stamp onto a piece of paper which I would then scan into the computer and print out onto t-shirt transfer paper and iron onto a top for my daughter in commemoration of our delightfully silly summer together--a.k.a. ButtFest '06.
And so it was that I found myself at the Goodwill, feeling up dolly butts. Strange circumstance, indeed. Standing in the toy aisle (which, as it was Christmastime, was filled with other people) I carefully caressed the rump of each promising looking doll.
I was looking for firm, natural bottoms. I wanted plumpness and a lifelike crack. Nothing soft and squishy. No anatomically incorrect posteriors. Nor any with unsightly seams or poorly placed joints or fasteners. Sadly, I had to turn one lovely candidate down on account of an ugly butt screw--can you imagine the imprint that would have made?!
Once a toy had passed the rigorous grope test, I humiliated myself (and the dolls) further by checking beneath the clothing. It was the practical thing to do. After all, what sane person would buy a dolly butt sight unseen? Flip the doll over, lift the skirt (or pull down the pants) and really check out those buns! Can you imagine the sideways glances I was suffering? And there were children present. That was the worst part. I must have looked like a deranged toy proctologist. And I would swear in a court of law that a dainty Mrs. Clause replica cast me a wicked evil glare as I reached out cop a feel of her husband's toushie.
In the end, after considerable deliberation, I chose a darling Cabbage Patch infant boy. And let me tell you, honey, baby got back!