Fragile

"Can we look at the little girls?" Elena asks, "The ones like me and Audrey?"

"You mean the dolls?" I ask.

"Not like my baby. The little girls that are fragile."

So we walk into the front room, open the secretary.  She knows all their names from last time, but the one she's looking for is the one we named Audrey after her cousin, four days older than she.

When we found Audrey, she wanted to take her clothes off, but I reminded her that they were very fragile and that we'd take the clothes off the other ones, the ones that were stronger.

As she was undressing them, she said, "We have to be berry berry careful, Yenna, because they are berry fragile."

Christie, her baby, however, even with her porcelain head, is just right.  "She needs me, I better take good care of her," she said.