American Girl Hell.

I got to the train station in Bloomington early today, about 6:50AM. I got my amtrak tickets, no problem, and sat down. Then a mom, grandmother, and granddaughter sat next to me. They were going to Chicago for the day, for one reason only.

To go to the American Girl Store.

Dolls that match your daughter. Outfits for both. Overpriced food. Creepy realism.

Then the train station filled up with Mother Daughter pairs. For columbus day, everyone in Bloomington (or some small town nearby) was going to Chicago to the American Girl Store. It wasn’t an accident, they were all going together. Dolls, daughters, and moms. To shop at one store only.

“Are you going to eat there?” “We haven’t decided.” “It really is worth the money.”

“She won’t go to the bathroom if you aren’t in there.” “Tell her she needs to poop before we get on the train.” “Can’t she poop on the train?” “She really should poop before. I’ll be there in a minute.”

One woman, who was not in the group, said, “I swear I’m allergic to those kids.” Luckily, Amtrak put them on another car so we wouldn’t have to be around them the whole ride. I couldn’t imagine going to Chicago for one store. No. I take that back, as my dad will come up to shop for magic and my mom for art supplies.

But to buy a doll that is the doppleganger of your daughter. Yuck.