Oh no, dolly!  Where did you get that black eye?  Did somebody hit you?  Don’t worry, this little guy, who I found at an estate sale, is not from the Child Protective Services collection. Nope, his twin brother gave him that shiner:

I’m guessing that Dolly Momma probably grew so tired of their seemingly endless bickering that she just gloved up her Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Babies and told them to work it out themselves.  Or at least that’s her story.

My sister and I used to fight when we were kids.  When we’d had enough, we’d yell that we were “telling on Mommy,” which still makes no sense.  And Mom didn’t really want to deal with it anyway.  Except when we were in the car.  We’d be going at it in the back seat on our way to wherever, (“stop humming,” “stay on your side,” “I hate you,” etc.), and when Mom couldn’t stand listening to it any more, she’d reach behind her with her bony manicured bejeweled hand, never turning around to look, and just start waving it around wildly.  We’d burst into uncontrolled fits of laughter, screaming, “the Claw, watch out for the Claw, aaaahhhhhhh!!!!!”  It was very effective at stopping the fighting, at least temporarily, and as best I can recall, she never drew blood.

Although I can sympathize with Dolly Momma — heaven knows listening to your kids bicker can get on your last nerve real fast — a wise Dolly Momma knows to step in before things get out of hand, like it did for this poor dolly:

“Baby Ready for the Trash” is an example of doll-fighting (or doll ownership) gone horribly wrong.  I ran across it in a cradle with a bunch of other sad-looking dolls at an estate sale, with a $10 “as is” sticker on it (I’m thinking the “as is” part was rather obvious).  Someone must have REALLY loved this doll!

Well, the two little fighters inspire me to make one thing — PUNCH!  As much as I am itching to turn on the fireplace and bake pumpkin pies, it’s still really hot and humid here on the Gulf Coast, and cold drinks reign supreme.  I was introduced to this simple and delicious fruity drink at a law firm party.  It was a lavish party, but no matter how much money the law firm threw at it, in the end it was still a bunch of lawyers, and I was B-O-R-E-D to tears.  I went up to the bartender and asked him to mix me up something to help me forget how bored I was, and this is what he made for me.  After a few of these, I have to admit, the party got a lot more interesting.

I’ll fight you for it!