Dear me, MDM is two days late, isn’t it? Sorry ’bout that! On Monday, I had a friend over (it was the very first time we hosted our own sleepover instead of going over to someone else’s house!) and on Tuesday I had dance and gymnastics. I have another dance class (Dance Team) today, but that’s not until later tonight, so I figured a slightly late Mini Doll Monday is better than no MDM at all!

Today’s post features Celina and Jessa, and to my sheer delight, is very dramatic. (If you don’t already know me, I love all things dramatic.) ;)

Jessa and I had just stepped out of the sliding glass door. It was heavy for us mini dolls, but one way or another, Jessa managed to shut it after Madison lifted us up to the shelf outside.

Actually, Madison was more than happy to do that, because she was insisting we go outside and get a healthy dose of vitamin D. Jessa and I were the least enthuastic about it, however, but Madison made it very clear we were to go outside this instant!

None of us are very adventurous, (besides one moment where I snuck into the Forbidden Kingdom…) and the outside world is full of dangerous beings. Creepy bugs, lizards, sharp plants… How could Molly-Anne and Jocelyn like going outside?

“Um, so, what do we do now?” I asked Jessa, but I knew that she wouldn’t know either. She meekly shrugged her shoulders, her eyes frantically looking around the world with both uneasiness and a spark of curiosity.

“I suppose we should try to venture out of the lanai and go into the sunshine. We don’t have to do anything rash or ‘adventurous’; just soak up some vitamin D, nothing more and nothing less than what Madison said.” I suggested, and Jessa agreed, seeing as it was the obvious thing to do.

So we started walking carefully. This shelf outside the kitchen window could not be trusted to run upon – plus, running was something rowdy adventurers did, which we were not.

But we came across a quite annoying opposition. It was a huge, gray, slippery, folded tarp, and how on earth could we cross it without slipping and falling?

Luckily, there was a box on it, so we held onto it for dear life while we slowly inched across.

But there was still about two more human inches of tarp after the length of the box. We had no choice but to cross it, or risk going around it, and being very close to the edge of the shelf and losing our balance and…let’s not go there!

“Okay, Jessa, we have to balance very carefully for the rest of the tarp! Take slow, carefuly steps!” I told her anxiously.

I held my breath as I wobbled across. When I arrived safely at the other side, I realized it was not too bad at all. Just being nervous and anticipating it was the worst part!

“It’s not bad, Jessa!” I encouraged her as her eyes communicated pure hurror and distress about attempting to walk on her own without the box to hold on to.

She stepped away from the box and balanced as much as she could.

“You’re almost there!”

Within a step away from the end of it, Jessa tripped over her own clumsy feet.

She let out an ear-piercing scream as she tumbled right on top of me!

With two great BANGS, we found ourselves on the floor.

“Oh! Oh!” Jessa cried, too shocked to speak. She finally managed, “I am so sorry!”

“It’s fine, I’m not hurt; are you?” I asked as I timidly pulled myself up.

“No,” She shook her head breathlessly. “But my heart is beating fast!”

I gave the poor, frightened Jessa a hug.

“Come on, let’s hurry and get this sun-soaking expedition over with!” I grinned.

But another obstacle came about. We reached the end of the shelf, and the only option to get down was to slide down a nearby patio chair! How on earth could we do it without hurting ourselves?

“Celina, let’s go back!” Jessa cried fearfully. “It’s too dangerous!”

“I think we can made it, if we’re careful,” I muttered slowly. “Plus, we can’t turn back now. Madison told us we have to get vitamin D, and we’re still stuck in the shade of the lanai. We can do it if we think this through.”

I slowly let her down until her feet could touch the chair.

“Okay, I am going to let go of your hands, and you are going to slide down and land on the soft chair. Okay?”

“O-o-okay,” Jessa stammered, scared out of her wits.

HOLY BEAN-AND-CHEESE BURRITO!!!” Jessa cried as she slid down the chair.

She landed with a soft bounce on the seat of the chair.

“Are you alright?” I called from above.

“F-f-fine,” she stuttered back, shaking with fright.

“Geronimo!” I whooped as I slid down. I remembered a quite helpful quote from Anne of Green Gables.

“I’ve made up my mind to enjoy this…You can nearly always enjoy things if you make up your mind firmly that you will.” 

So I made up my mind that I was going to enjoy this. It couldn’t be much harder than sliding on a slide at a mini doll playground, could it?

And you know what? It was fun!

“Phew!” I gasped as I thumped on the seat. I turned to grin at Jessa. “You see? That wasn’t too bad.”

Jessa murmered, “Mm-hmm,” but I knew she thought that it was very bad indeed.

The next part wasn’t that scary either. As mini dolls, we do a great deal of sliding down and climbing things to just get around these huge human houses. We both knew what to do here.

The only unpleasant part about sliding is that your hands get red from the burn of all the friction. And this metal chair leg was no exception.

We had done the hard part! We ventured across the ugly, orange, anti-slippery floor of the lanai and towards the door leading to the outside world.

I take that back. We had yet another hard encounter. How on earth were we going to get open the door? The handle was so awfully high up, and we were so worn out from all the climbing that we didn’t want to climb the already-hard-to-climb wooden lanai pieces to get to it.

Luckily, we found a very helpful lizard. He did not even mind that we disturbed his mating ritual, and pushed the handle in for us.

While he pushed in on the handle, we pushed on the door with all the strength we had.

We finally arrived on the other side! We thanked Mr. Lizard, and with a nod and a scurry he was off.

We walked a few steps out into the grass and stood on the concrete firepit. For a couple of minutes, we soaked up the sun. It felt good and warm, which was normal for a Floridian December.

But a bigger, nasty lizard, wanting to cause some mischeif, dared us to climb the fence. At first, we resented, but he started teasing us. Jessa blushed hot and wanted to shrink back against the lanai and turn invisible, while it made me wrathfully angry. I was furious at that no-good, stinky, low-down lizard for having the audacity to tease us like that!

Without thinking, I blurted, “Of course we can climb your stupid fence! We’re not helpless! Move aside, you silly dumbbell!”

Jessa didn’t want to oppose, so she followed me, but with the utmost regret for coming outside. Crossing a tarp, sliding down a chair, and opening a door were enough for one frightening day. Having to climb a fence was horrible! Reluctantly, she trudged on after my storming steps.

I had underestimated her. She was an incredible climber – I wondered why she was so afraid then.

“I guess you are good climbers,” The lizard admitted. But with a jeer, he added, “But I bet you can’t scramble down just as quick as you got up!”

“Just watch us,” I retorted. “Hurry, Jessa!” Jessa turned around quickly towards the side of the fence where we climbed up- a little too quickly.

She lost her balance as well as her footing, and to my dismay, I watched as she helplessly fell.

She screamed as loud as she could for someone, anyone, to help her, but no one came to her rescue. No one heard. I watched in a nearly agonizing slowmotion as she grew nearer and nearer to the ground, and felt bitter hatred at the mischevious lizard for just running off after she fell.



I scrambled down faster than I had gotten up, but not for the lizards approval. I ran to Jessa.

“Oh, Jessa! Are you alright? Are you hurt?!”

Jessa opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She couldn’t breathe! After a second or two, she choked out, “Get — help!”

I sprinted back to the door and yelped for the (kind) lizard, but he was nowhere to be found!

“Oh, no!” I cried, defeated.

I slid against the door, fighting the tears that threatened to stream down my face. “Oh, Jesus, please help me!” I cried out, praying harder than I ever have in my life. I had to get help!

More desperate and determined than ever, I turned around and banged hard against the door with all of my mini doll might. “HELP ME!!! HELP!!!” I screamed as loud as I could.

It was God-sent. Coconut came trotting over to me worriedly!

“Coconut, Jessa fell! GO GET HELP!” I cried to her. With an obedient yip, she ran off to get help.

When she came back, one of the big dolls held open the door while I helped Jessa onto Coconut. “How are you doing?” I asked her as Coconut slowly walked toward the lanai door. “I hurt, Celina. I hurt ever so bad.” was all she could utter.

Back inside, Jessa was lying on the bed, resting. After I got permission, I came inside the room to visit her.

I asked Jocelyn and Molly-Anne, who had come in with me, to turn on a light. It was dark in here, and I could barely see Jessa.

I gasped when I did.

“Oh, Jessa!” I miserably exclaimed.

It was all my fault. On her forehead was an awful scar she had most likely recieved when she banged her head on the fence during her fall. When an American Girl doll gets a mark like that, it is a scar to stay unless she is sent to the doll hospital for a head replacement. I knew that was out of the question, both for money reasons and the fact they didn’t treat mini dolls.

I gave her a hug. “I am so sorry, Jessa. This was all my fault. I shouldn’t have taken the lizard’s dare like that. I lost my temper and put us both in danger – I am so, awfully sorry!” I blinked back hot, miserable tears.

“It’s okay, Celina. I am fine, really.” She smiled at me. My heart nearly melted from the joy of being forgiven. “And you know what?”

“What?” I asked.

“There is nobody I would rather have an unexpected, very traumatic adventure with than you!

Do your dolls have any marks or scratches you weren’t able to remove? Do they make you sad to see them, or do they mean to you that your dolls is well-loved and cherished, and make her more special?