I asked her what she would name the doll. She looked thoughtful. "I don't know," she answered. Her face spoke of many agonizing hours to come, deep in thought.
The next day, as she carried the doll around the house, I asked again. "What is your doll's name?"
"Oh!" She spun about. "Unca-Xander."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"UNCA-" she said, "XANDER."
"Uncle Xander?" I asked. "You mean, like your Uncle Alexander? We call him Xan?"
"Yes," she said. "No," she went on. "Unca-Xander."
I meant to continue the conversation and attempt to salvage the moniker, but I had already fallen into a fit of laughter, so the child and doll moved on, unperturbed.
Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to introduce our beloved Uncle Xan:
and THIS, if Unca-Xander:
The resemblance is simply uncanny.
The Princess is simply in love.
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