So, Do You Like ... Stuff?

“Where’s Alice?” That’s the question my wife asked me in a panic as we drove along Route 40 out of Albuquerque on our way home from an extended holiday vacation in Colorado. The Alice to whom she was referring was an “Alice in Wonderland” doll that nestled tightly in our daughter’s arms each night before her restless movements managed to release it from her clutches to the foot of the bed or, alas, the floor. For Christmas, said daughter had received dolls from the movie “Frozen,” which were currently occupying her time and which went a long way toward explaining her recent carelessness with Alice. “How should I know?” I said. My ignorance made me culpable, apparently, and it was decided by all the females in the vehicle that I must have let Alice fall out of the car while I was packing it BY MYSELF. I denied these accusations as the frantic car search continued, pointing out the many times I had saved babies—our daughters call their dolls babies—from tragic asphalt fates. I alwa...