Mystery of the kinky dollhouse

In 1976, for my son Jules' Christmas present, I built him a dollhouse.

I built it to be very sturdy.  The idea was that a child could stand on it and it would not be destroyed.

He played with it, then my daughter Emily played with it, then it sat lonely and unplayed with for several years until grandchildren came along.

And then it got new life.  Ian, Adam, and Soren all have played with it, although all have now grown out of it.  Sebastian probably will too when he comes.

And so do our granddaughters.

Last Sunday we had them out to the house, and the oldest carefully re-arranged the furniture, as she so often does after the "boys mess it up."

And this is what she found.  The momma doll in handcuffs!

Now, how weird is that?

The weirdest part is that I have no idea who put these handcuffs on the momma doll.  Nor do we have any idea where they came from.

Somebody played a wonderful joke.  We'd like to know who, but maybe not knowing is just as fun.

Vicky and I talked today about how the dollhouse might be played with for another three or so years, and then it will once again sit lonely until maybe, in some 20 years or so, great grandchildren might come along and want to arrange the furniture.  That made both of us so happy to think about.