The moral of this story will make another attempt
 

She took great pride in moving the furniture around in her dollhouse numerous times. Placing the dolls in each room gave her a sense of control. Repeatedly, she changed furniture and moved the dolls around. It was not long before this style of control and  fantasy quickly bored her.  She knew what she had to do.

Teary eyed, she packed up the dollhouse.  She waited for her Mama and the house staff to retire for the night. Once the mansion was still with silence, she exited the mansion. She made her way to the area behind the stables and retrieved a shovel. Still teary eyed she dug a hole 6 ft deep. 

The sun would be rising in less then an hour. She hurries back to the mansion. She listens intently for any sound of life. All is quiet. She climbs the spiral steps. She carefully and slowly opens the door. The box is where she left it. Swiftly she makes her way over to the box and picked it up. 

She made her way back down the spiral steps and suddenly came to a hault. There stood her Papa.  Before he could speak a word, still  teary eyed she says, "I want to be just like you Papa."

After a long three minutes, her Papa says, "You are me."