"Hello."

"Hey, Mom."

"Is everything all right?"

"Yeah … well … not exactly."

"What happened?"

"It's Jammie Pies."

"Who?"

"Jammie Pies. She. I mean he … he's a boy!"

It was midnight when my daughter Scrappy phoned. Minutes earlier she was on the phone talking to a friend. Somehow their conversation led to kid's favorite stuffed toys. Scrappy told her friend about her favorite stuffed doll growing up. "Her name is Jammie Pies."

"My niece has that doll," her friend said.

"I don't think they make the doll anymore," said Scrappy.

"I think you're wrong."

"Is your niece's doll dressed in a bunny suit?" asked Scrappy.

"I think so."

"Is the name Jammie Pies embroidered on the bottom of her feet?"

"Um. Maybe."

"Not possible," said Scrappy.

Scrappy then Googled the name Jammie Pies. Jammie Pies sites popped up everywhere. Hundreds of twenty-something bloggers posted blogs about Jammie Pies: "I have been searching all over the place, and I can only find one Jammie Pies doll. The blue bunny (male) doll."

"WHAT?! Male doll!" Scrappy screamed.

Another blogger wrote, "I was wondering if anyone had a Winkle (red and yellow) doll in new or like new condition."

"Winkle! There's more Jammie Pies! I gotta call my mom."

"But it's midnight. You'll wake her."

"I've been sleeping with a male doll for 22 years. She needs to hear this."

At age 3, Scrappy received the stuffed doll from my friend Margaret. Jammie Pies is a plush doll dressed head to toe in a blue bunny suit (hint: blue bunny suit) and stands 11 inches tall. The doll is a cross between a Precious Moments, Strawberry Shortcake and Chucky doll. All its clothes are sewn on, and it smells like Febreze — still does after 20 years.

In the earlier years, Jammie Pies comforted Scrappy through binky withdrawals, nightmares, timeouts and scraped knees. Jammie Pies endured countless hugs and squeezes and angry throws off the bed. Scrappy dragged Jammie Pies by the arm to the grocery store, Sunday dinners at Nanny and Poppy's house, sleepovers and to Disneyworld. Later years, Jammie Pies and Scrappy went off to college. After graduation, she and Scrappy headed for sunny Arizona. Ohmygod! All those years of watching my daughter get undressed! What kind of mother allows her daughter to sleep with a male doll?

Further Google investigation uncovered the true identity of Jammie Pies. Jammie Pies is a boy, and his real name is Tuck. He was made by Playskool between the years 1986-1988. Tuck's gene pool includes siblings Winkum, Primsy Rose, Ditty, Spunkle, Pittipin, Middy, Lolli Bye and Snuzzle. And I think there may be more out there.

Each doll came with a little pet toy. I remember because I threw the toy away thinking my daughter would choke on it. Surely, I would remember if the doll came home with a birth certificate stating its name and gender — I still have her Cabbage Patch doll's records in our safety deposit box.

"Did you know Jammie Pies was a boy?"

"No." I said.

"Why would Margaret give me a boy doll?"

"Maybe she didn't know it was a boy doll."

My daughter read me dozens of Jammie Pies stories posted on the web: "I've had my Jammie Pies since I was born in 1986. He is adorable with his brown eyes and blue jumper trimmed in orange."

Another one read: "My little brother was born in 1987. He received a Jammie Pies for Christmas — a boy in blue overalls. The doll came with a little mouse."

"A mouse. Now, I remember."

"Everyone else seems to know Tuck is a boy," my daughter moaned.

"Did you check to make sure it's a boy?"

"Mom. It's not a Barbie doll."

Just then the phone beeped, it was my husband calling from out of town. "It's your dad. I'll call you back."

I told my husband the news about Jammie Pies. "Eew!"

"That's what I said. Not that there's anything wrong with our daughter owning a boy doll. I just wished I would have known."

"Would knowing have made a difference?" he asked.

"I wouldn't have allowed her to take him on sleepovers."

Moments later, I phoned my daughter. Turns out, Jammie Pies is in high demand. "They sell on on Ebay from $100 to $300!" my daughter said. "Tuck is going for $200!"

"Hmm … "

"Don't even think about it, Mom."

To find out more about Mimi Kopulos and read her past columns, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.

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