Eight

“I want a water feature. You’ll have to help me with it.”

“What kind?” I asked.

“I want the whole thing to have water like faucets, and I want a waterfall, and a pond.”

“This sounds like a mess.”

“Yes, I want a messy pond. With real frogs. I need an amphibian aquarium.”

“Why?”

“Because water symbolizes life, and movement. I looked up the word motion and it basically means movement. So the word emotion means to move with. That’s what water is. Water is emotion. So I need it in the dollhouse. It’s a matter of authenticity. Ponds are the beginning of life, and I have a new life now.”

“I shouldn’t have home-schooled you. You would never say things like this if you went to public school.”

“You love that I say things like this.”

“I do. You’re right.”

“So when do you begin?”

“I have to do plumbing for a hundred rooms in a dollhouse?”

“Yes. Who else but you?”

“You know, I wanted you to be an architect, not a biologist.”

“I’m both. They’re basically the same thing. Environments are categorical and therefore are subject to taxonomy.”

“You’re too smart.”

So I started it. We had to make the walls different so that new infrastructure could be inside it. It became a real house. Functional, rather than just an art piece. The toilets even flushed. I built a tiny septic tank on the outside. My daughter wanted a compost pile too but I said it would smell too much. She didn’t care. She wanted a mansion with a farm. She even started sewing her own clothes. Yes, I introduced her to cosplay a couple years ago. She loves it. We play out plays sometimes in the evening.

“You have to catch the frogs yourself. I don’t want warts on my hands.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be manly? You’re my dad.”

“Are you guilting me into doing something you don’t want to do?”

“Yes.”

“You’re definitely a female.”

“I know. I’m really pretty too.”

“Fine. I’ll catch your frogs for you.”

“Perfect!”