A childhood belief about toys

When I was little I firmly believed that all my dolls and stuffed animals were alive, and simply could not tell me because it was against the rules of their world. Based on this, I would have long, heartfelt, tearful conversations pleading with them to talk back to me. I would cry and plead and promise that they really, really could trust me because I would never tell anyone their secret. I used to read my dolls bedtime stories and tuck them in at night. I worried that, since they were alive and all, they might be hurt or jealous of one another if I did not spend equal amounts of time with each one. Some nights I remember really wanting to go to sleep, but having to make the rounds among my dolls, reading each her own story or promising to read her a longer story the next night if I didn’t have time…