Her red hair lies perfectly braided down her back. Her green eyes intensely focus.
Her wide smile showcases a row of straight white teeth, while her perfect posture keeps her head balanced on her shoulders.
In need of a washing, her white shirt carries various stray stains and markings.
The collar and cuff links are stiff, as her buttons remain closed. A brown belt keeps her dark rinsed jeans on her hips, as black and white cow printed chaps overlap the front.
Her brown boots show little wear, even though she has worn them for some time.
Since meeting her best friend, she has always remained at her side.
The two have made car rides, sleepovers, and play dates. Never too far away.
Her legs have danced on table tops and jumped on beds.
In her ears, wishes and plans for play have been whispered.
Her arms have been pulled, and hugged tightly.
Not born into our family, she is an integral part.
Without her, a missing piece, an absence, a longing.
On occasion, she disappears.
Promises of better behavior.
Her return brings hugs, smiles, and return of play.
Why, she's Jessie! The best freaking doll on the planet and currently the only motivation to keep Mo on the straight and narrow. Jessie is virtually attached to her hip, a real best friend. And when she's naughty, Jessie somehow knows and disappears indefinitely.
The cries, the pleas, the promises all flow quickly as she attempts to negotiate the return of her dear friend.
Her return, simply magic.
Picking Jessie up off the floor while Mo napped today, I felt the need to acknowledge her importance. Naughty behavior at the park earlier, consequently lead to Jessie missing from nap time.
However, walking down the stairs, wiping the sleep from her eyes, I hear the gasp.
"Jessie!" She squeals, "you're back!"