Take a minute to deal with the staggering loss of American Girl Doll Samantha Parkington. Take as much time as you need. Leave work, get some ice cream (just like Samantha did!) and weep. Just weep. For your childhood is dead, now.
Maybe your childhood has been dead for a while, I don’t know, but I just found out about this today, via the Jane Dough. I think they sum up everything when they say:
Samantha was the doll that every girl wanted to have. Receiving the Samantha doll as a present was proof that justice and good existed in the world; the girls who owned her undoubtedly grew into lawyers, philanthropists, founders of non-profits, and women with fast metabolisms who say things like “Oh, I’m just naturally a morning person.”
I had a Samantha. Also a Felicity, but Felicity… well Felicity’s outfits were almost as good. Felicity certainly had some very good outfits, just not QUITE AS good.
And Felicity never got ice cream. She was just always riding a horse someplace. Samantha had tiny little purses as a child.
Nothing will ever be quite as good. Certainly, not anything worn by these new American Girl dolls with names like “Sage” who probably do not even have elegant, Dowager-Countess-like Grandmothers to teach them about ice cream parlors and being a suffragette.
What world are we creating for our children’s children?
Picture via American Girl