My favorite doll of all time was Valerie. She had blonde hair (don't most dolls?) and a wonderful wardrobe of clothes, including my all-time favorite red plaid skirt.
I was a real girly-girly when I was a kid and absolutely adored my dolls. I can still remember all their names: Kissy, Chatty Cathy, Tiny Tears, Tammy (my parents never bought me a Barbie doll), Pepper, and the famous Valerie.
At night, I had to dress them in their PJs because, after all, if I didn't sleep in my clothes, why should they? I made them wear sweaters at night and, for those who didn't have sweaters, I made a nest of a big flannel blanket to keep them warm.
My two younger brothers were cruel in their lack of appreciation for my wondrous dolls. Unknown to anyone at the time, the nasty little SOBs buried Valerie in the back yard because I tattled on them. One summer night I put Valerie to bed in the closet and the next day she was ... gone.
I swore someone broke into the house and stole her and was the laughingstock of my brothers--and my parents--for weeks. Until thirty years later when one of my brothers broke the vow of silence and shared the true story.
Valerie's corpse was probably uncovered by an avid gardener years later when mulching the yard before planting some petunias.
What nasty tricks did YOUR rotten little (or big) brothers (or sisters) play on you?