Please Santa! Bring me a doll without a penis!

I feel the need to write again bubbling up inside me like a hot holiday fruit crisp. And a coat spinning in the dryer is keeping me awake anyway…

Yesterday, I made the trek out to Target. On the way, I prepared myself for battle. So thankful I found a parking space…I kept saying to myself, “If you are a smart lady you will turn back now!” But for the sake of my daughter’s toy filled Christmas, I kept pressing. Fearful of what I might find inside I continued to grab a cart. I imagined people fighting over the last Thomas the Train toy engine. “A grandma of four roundhouses an expectant mom for the last Little People princess castle!” Will that mom be me? Seal team six Christmas toy mission begins!

Hundreds of people scurry through Target to find toys and other useless CRAP for their loved ones. (I especially love all the dollar stuff right by the door. It’s stuff no one needs. No one is going to squeal with glee they got frosted animal crackers or a pen with five colors of ink! But, I still must dig!)

I think, “what does my two year old really want this year?” I have no idea! Getting inside the mind of a two year old for me is like trying to build a jet engine with toothpicks. I have a sudden flash back to my childhood holidays. I think of toys I loved and toys I HATED. One toy I hated the most!

I must have been ten or so when grandma gifted me one of those QVC “life like” newborn baby dolls. Some little girls love baby dolls! Maybe most little girls love dolls and dream about being little mommies. Not me. I guess I’ve always been a weirdo in the baby doll department. But, this particular baby doll didn’t help my lack luster for dolls! It was a male infant doll with an anatomically correct pissing penis. How is a ten year old girl supposed to relate or feel comfortable with a penis? I had no idea what those parts even looked like before that moment! “And it really wets! Just like a real baby!” Oh goody, I’m ten and I suddenly have a newborn to care for, and it really pees. Oh yum! Baby pee. My anxiety for babies went through the roof! It’s no wonder I’m just now having kids into my thirties!

Dodging the holiday crowd through the store, I finally reach the toy section. Thinking of my unlucky Christmas past and out of desperation I wonder, “Okay, what toy isn’t going to fuck up my kid into her thirties?” And then I see it! It was like a soft glow of pink light. Barbie!

Every little girl loves Barbie! Or is she symbolic for future body dysmorphic disorder, lipo, and breast implants? Barbie is also very young to be going on dates with Ken! And I don’t approve! But If I don’t break my daughter of Thomas the Train will she become a lesbian train conductor? Holiday shopping is so stressful!

I decided on a couple of Barbies. I did say no to Ken. I’m not ready to introduce my daughter to Ken. When it’s the right time she can have a Ken doll. At least Ken doesn’t have defined male “junk” that I will somehow have to explain to my daughter at an age WAY too early. Thanks Ken for being a gentleman and keeping your privates in an vague flesh colored bulge unlike weird urinating baby!

Maybe I’m just more comfortable with a world of pink, fast cars, mansions, and endless accessories. After all, Barbie isn’t the “bubble headed” blonde she was in the 1980’s. She is now a doctor, a veterinarian, and even an astronaut! I still had to rummage through a pile of “skank” night club Barbies to find the educated ones. I landed on Barbie “the artist.” She has a neatly groomed pompadour ponytail and comes with a cute apron and a palate of color. Surely she’s a university art major! She’s very cute. But, please Ava no smoking in late night coffee shops sipping lattes with bearded and tattooed boys. Mommy’s heart can’t take it! Lol

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