this one cracked me up; i have a daughter who went through a serious barbie obsession between the ages of five and ten.
this was some time ago, and amongst my peer group and partner, (her mother), barbie loathing was possibly at an all time high, (it symbolised all that was wrong with america and the world at that time).
i didn’t really buy into the degree of visceral loathing of those around me, so when the daughter caught the bug i just shrugged and said “pah, it’s only a stage she’s going through, and it’s only a piece of plastic”. (this to the general horror of those around me).
i guess the height of indulgance was when she turned 8; i bought her a barbie bus/mobile home.
a symphony in pink.
this sucker was about a metre long, 400cm high, with everything else in proportion
the arrival of the barbie bus in our world was greeted with cries of delight from the offspring, and knitted brows and puzzled looks/fixed smiles, elsewhere.
anyway, as it all turns out, this too did pass.
the afflicted/affected daughter now?
if you had barbie at one end of a spectrum; she is at the other.
this attitude to childhood passions has recently been echoed and vindicated with the boy; he is now ten, and has been happily ratchet and clanking away for some years now.
i knew/hoped that he would eventually move on , and he has; he’s got one of those complicated and complex build a world/armies etc games.
the shoot-em-ups are now gathering dust. he’s into strategy, planning, and creation, (with a bit of destruction thrown in for balance), and that’s gotta be good.
so just relax, folks; it’s only ephemeral stuff.
anyway, read this story; it’s funny.