We held off the inevitable for nearly five years, but this week, Julia succumbed, finally, to Barbie fever – courtesy of an older cousin who donated a few spare Barbies to Julia and Genevieve and a grandma who sent them to us even as Moorhead was facing the floodwaters. (How’s that for love?)
The fever took hold slowly, over two or three days, but today its victory was total. For the first time since she was a few months old, Julia did not take her nap (and right now is not going to sleep at night) with her beloved Winnie-the-Pooh Silky, now rather tattered and torn. She also discarded her other sleeping “friends”: a worn-out toy cat, a soft little pillow, and a small pink Care Bear. In their stead, she’s sleeping with a blonde Barbie doll dressed in a long blue dress that, not coincidentally, looks an awful lot like a dress a Disney Princess might wear.
Assuming this fever will persist for some time, we need to get more and different clothes for the Barbies. The clothes that came with the dolls are fine, don’t get me wrong, but the number of tops is one fewer than the number of chests, and the pants refuse to be fastened in any way that wouldn’t get you kicked out of junior high. If I must have Barbies, I can insist that they’re decorous, can’t I?