Maggie is a typical little girl. She loves dolls. She loves to play with dolls. She loves to push dolls around in a stroller, pat them on the back, cradle them, kiss them, tell them they are cute. She's an attentive mommy to say the least. So that is why I am confused that her favorite "baby" is this guy:
Yes, it's a monkey. And yes it really is her favorite baby. She carries him around on her hip, cooing to him and singing to him. She even tries to put diapers on him. When she hands him off to Daddy for some male bonding time and daddy "accidentally" drops him, she brings C. George to me to kiss his bonked head. She reads him stories, feeds him plastic pizza and tucks him into bed at night. And it's not because Maggie has a lack of dolls. She has lots of dolls- dolls from grandmas, dolls from mommy, dolls from aunts and uncles. Cute dolls with pink dresses and long eyelashes and ringlets. And she does play with those dolls, but they don't hold the place in her heart that Curious George does.
So here we are, monkey baby and all. And then today I made a startling realization. I know why Maggie loves this monkey baby so much... it is her Cash equivalent: