I spent my childhood daydreaming about having nice things and a Dollhouse was on top of my wish list. My parents did not buy me one, but my dad worked for a factory that manufactured hospital furniture and he brought home the “faulty” tables for my sister and I to play with.
I improvised by placing a blanket over the table and pretended that it was a dollhouse caravan. It was a challenge to push it on our carpet floor, so my arms got a great workout. Good times.
Maybe I shouldn’t deprive my children of the opportunity to be creative and innovative, and just give them a broken hospital table to play with.
