day 115: life according to Barbie

For a few charming hours this morning, my living room floor was tattered with high heel shoes, convertibles, dream houses, pet dogs, babies, and just as many stylish bodies as indecent ones.

Which can mean only one thing in a house of three young girls: Barbie time.

As I cleaned and organized and planned in the kitchen, bits of Barbie conversation wafted over my way. I snuck up behind the house, careful that my eavesdropping and spying shouldn't be noticed. And then the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was true. The girls were re-enacting life as they knew it--the only way they knew it--through their beloved plastic dolls.

The mom, conservatively dressed (but dressed, nonetheless), was in the plastic kitchen, making plastic yet undoubtedly good-smelling food, kept the washing machine and dryer constantly going, and played with her kids when she had the chance.

The kids were busy going to parties and weddings and playing soccer. Their hair wasn't brushed (often a sad reality there), their clothes sometimes matched, but their face was done up in a perpetual smile.

The dog was well-mannered and didn't need to be on a leash.....okay, this one doesn't exactly mimic real life.

But then there was the dad, in all his shining splendor. He wore his Marine uniform everywhere he went (dress blues, of course, not his working cammies.....and if you missed the blog about how we acquired that Marine Ken, you'll have to go back and read it.....but mind you, the female Marine has yet to make it out of the Barbie storage box.) The Marine dad was off in the distance, away from home, doing his job, yet his kids told their friends about their dad all the time, and they talked to him on the phone almost every day. And the Barbie kids said they missed their dad and couldn't wait for him to get home.