Look at Me, I'm Raggedy Ann

While on vacation, my daughter was watching a Baby Einstein video. If you haven't been treated to one of these, let me explain what they are... Basically, someone found a lot of cute and colorful toys, and filmed them doing whatever it is they do. Rolling, hopping, sitting still. I firmly believe that they are actually watched more by kids who are stoned than kids who are teething, but I digress.

Anyway, one of the toys featured on this particular video was a Raggedy Ann doll. When Raggedy Ann's visage popped up on screen, The Girl yelled, "Mommy!" At first I thought she was simply drawing my attention to it, but then I realized that she thinks that I LOOK LIKE RAGGEDY ANN.

This is not the toy that most women would like to resemble. Barbie, Jem, maybe a Bratz doll if you're a hooker... But not Raggedy Freakin' Ann. I mean, look:

I shared my ire with the husband of one of my college roommates, and he looked at the image, then at me, then at the image, then at me, and said, "Well..."

I stopped him right there. Look, I KNOW that I look like R.A. I know it. I don't wear an apron or candy cane stockings, but I have a big moon face and a halo of hair that looks reddish at times. I KNOW THIS. But man, you don't want anyone to TELL you this.

My only consolation in this is that Super Ninja owned and loved a Raggedy Ann doll when he was little. So maybe, at an early age, he already knew his type. Don't know what that says about him, but it kinda makes me feel better about the whole thing.