These kids crack me up. I've now had my pretty new yellow chairs loudly farted upon, my checkered carpet peed on, and all the contents of my little fish tank dumped all over the counter and floor (thank goodness my little fishies are battery operated--they would've been goners). My room has officially been broken in (well, christened if you will) by many cute, germy, and somewhat nosy little children. I also have them to thank for my current illness.
Many kids come in and stare, and I mean stare at my dollhouse. Wide eyed, they ask, "What is that?" Um, it's a little house for dolls, not hard to figure out. I think they ask as a way of drawing my attention to their attention to it--letting me know that they would really, really, really like to be invited to play with it. I admit that some kids have even caught me playing with it when I'm alone in my office. I much enjoyed watching my husband assemble it a few weeks ago. Once it was completed and we were unpacking the furniture, he toggled between looking painfully bored and put out by having to help with such a project and excitedly picking up items and proclaiming, "Look at this! The lid to the grill opens! And look! Here's a little ladder for the bunk beds! Wow!" The novelty of it to a grown man who did not grow up with any sisters greatly amused me.