Essay About Family: Home

Home

My sister and I bought a mannequin from a store going out of business. We thought my dad would really appreciate it. So, for his birthday we gave it to him in parts, an arm, a hand, a whole leg, and finally the body, under a sheet because it was too big to wrap. We put an old wig on her, something my sister and I used to play dress up with, so her hair looked plastic-y and disheveled. My sister painted her fingernails the only color we had, a free giveaway at Estee Lauders, Burnt Tangerine. I cannot remember the mannequin's name. I want to say Janie, my dad's girlfriend at the time because she too had blond hair, but I know that's not right. My dad loved her, this nameless mannequin. He kept her in our house on Ivydale Dr., standing in the dinning room so that we could see her from the kitchen and the living room, include her in our daily activities. She scared us more than once, a ghostly figure dressed in our cast-off clothes, surprising us if we needed a glass of water at night. The light from the street lamp glinted on her plastic-y hair and if we'd seen a scary movie recently, seemed to glint in her eye as well. My dad thought it was funny to talk to her, asking her if she'd like some crackers and cheese before dinner. This is how he taught us about anorexia, how it would turn us into lifeless, energy-less people like our mannequin. It wasn't scary so much as sad, so Kristi and I would sneak into the kitchen after dinner and eat a bite for her.

When it was time to move to our next house, my dad told us that the mannequin was a part of this house and wouldn't be coming with us. My sister was especially attached to her and after fighting with Poppy and losing, secretly came back to the house and picked her up. She put her in her room in my mom's house. It has since been put into closets and then boxes and is sitting in storage, faded from my sister's memory. My mom's plan to "save the poor thing" is to rent her out to commuters who need three people to drive in the HOV lane in DC rush-hour traffic.