What goes wrong?

The child sat on the mother's lap, watching in the mirror as her mother brushed her hair and softly sang to her. The little girl held a doll.
All three, the doll, the child and the mother - had long blonde hair, lovely blue eyes cheeks glowing with rouge and lips that shone with scarlet gloss.
The mother and the child were too lost in their own little world to hear through the open window, sounds of the summer afternoon of the neighbor boys playing a game of baseball and the tunes of ice-cream van chiming in the background. Suddenly, heavy footsteps thudded up the stairs, the mother began to wipe away the lipstick from the child's face. The father of the child stormed into the bedroom with a face full of anger.

"This was not to happen again!" He shouted, his voice loud and harsh.
"I'm sorry," the mother whispered, "I couldn't help it.
"No more," her husband told her, "this time is the last time. I had warned you of the consequences before!" The father swept the child from the mother's lap. The woman's eyes now filled with panic.
"No! she pleaded, "Oh God, don't!Please, don't!" But it was too late, the women watched hopelessly  as her husband carried her child out of the house.
The father carried the child through the great oak doors of the asylum, where a nurse was watching. The father looked at his child and said, I'm sorry for what she did and sorry you let her do it," he turned around and walked away.
The nurse took the child's hand and led her through a long hallway and into a room.
"This will be your room," she said. The nurse went to the dresser, in the corner of the room and took out a plain cotton dress, "and these will be your clothes. Put them on, please."
The child hesitated, then did as she was told. She heard nurse utter a strange sound. Looking up, she saw the woman staring down at her naked body, her eyes wide.
"Did i do something wrong?" the child asked.
The nurse shook her head, "No, child of course you didn't. But we got you the wrong clothes, didn't we? Little boys don't wear dresses, do they? And they certainly don't play with dolls."
The child screamed and fell sobbing on the bed as the nurse took the doll away. He had always thought he was a girl and his mother had always treated him like one. Now, his father had brought him to this asylum so that the matrons could deal with his "mental illness".
The child would not see the doll again, and would anyone outside the walls of the asylum see the child again?