Just remembered something.
When I was younger and living in Hastings, there was a lady who lived under us (we were in a flat) who was always out going for a walk with her babies but Mum never let me look inside the pushchair. At the time I thought nothing of it and just carried on with whatever it was I was doing.
I few years later I asked Mum about that lady and she told me her story. She lived in a house before she moved to the flats but there was a massive fire that swallowed everything she owned along with her children. She obviously was greatly traumatised by this and ever since, she used to carry on going for walks but with little dolls inside the pushchair.
Made me think, she must have been so traumatised and it affected her so much that she actually believed that these dolls were alive as she honestly did treat them as though they were real. Buying them clothes, changing nappies, singing to them.
Really sad story.
I’m also sat here reminiscing about my yellow slide. Had some really great times on that!