I have to say, I absolutely love those Max and the Wild Things dolls. I often told my baby brother his bedtime stories when my mother went to the sports club, and that story was one that featured prominently. Though I used his favourite dolls, of Eric and Bert, and didn't have specific dolls for each story.
The story opens with such coldness. And then you said you were in a hospital, so I was sure someone had died. The image of emotions held back, lest one breaks, come clear here.
My daughter (the mom of the baby featured in this story) found those stuffed dolls for me for Mother's Day the year before this baby was born. I still have them and will keep them always. They are such a sweet reminder of their childhood!
Oh, no! I didn't even think about the feel of the opening of the story. My mind was just... there, so I didn't think about it from an outside perspective. At least it was a happy ending!?
Well, yeah, but hey, we didn't know it was supposed to be a happy story, nor did we know it's biographical, so a sad story that hits hard is just as valuable as a happy one, right?
Absolutely. Plus, it's not like I would EVER write a sad/emotional story, right? ;)