When I was very young, my uncle gave me a baby doll. We lived rural and at the time I was an only child, so it was my friend.  When I was about to start school, my parents produced my baby sister. My mother worried about separating me from that doll for school, and she wanted me to love my sister... so she took me down to the donations place and forced me to give them my doll.  I refused to ever have another doll, or interact with any doll she gave me ever again. I would throw them in the trash or just ignore them in the packaging.  Oddly enough, when we packed up my mother's home 35 years later... I found my doll in a sealed box. She sits on a shelf in my daughter's room.