What I had when I was little* , salvaged from the amazing cast-offs on the streets up in Riverdale right before the big-garbage pickup days.
What I would have wanted instead.
*Sans furniture, missing one wing, and usually housing injured refugee Barbie dolls fleeing from the horrors of amputation by Maccabbee, our beloved canine, who had a soft spot for gnawing their little hands and feet. Or the Nazis. Or life on the Russian Steppes. Because I was a historian's daughter, after all.