She who would be who she would be

Except for the garden she stands in "She who would be..." is finished.
I wanted a beach comber doll. She refused. I decided with her uptilted head she could be a bird watcher. She refused. She even attempted to self destruct! She upped the heat on the oven and scorched her fingers. (What you see now are prosthesis of sorts.) Before I agreed to the necessary surgery I had my own little tizzy and threw her under the table and tried to ignore her. She pulled on my pants leg, mumbled and grumbled and generally caused so much havoc in the studio I was forced to pull her back up and see what I could do. None of this changed her haughty attitude at all. She thinks she is an aristocrat at least and maybe royalty!
I quit arguing. This is She. She who would be what she would be.