As a toddler, I loved Suzie Doll so much that the hair on the back of her head wore off and she was left with a scratchy, cropped, bristle-brush–like mohawk. I carried her around in a headlock and napped with her every day in my crib. My mother sewed colorful cotton print dresses for her and patched her worn body twice in ecru muslin. Suzie traveled in high (suitcase) style to Michigan, Montana, and California. As with love and comfort, there are possessions we can’t live without, and Suzie’s hair was the price she paid for being my everything.
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