This year, we spent Christmas at my parents’ house. It was awesome to spend the day with most of the family again along with the nieces and nephews who could make it. However, I did notice we’ve hit that strange time when there are no longer any little kids around. The youngest have reached that early teen phase when their attentions are pretty much focused on their phones. No more impatient excitement to open gifts or playing with toys. Nowadays, money is the honey. Even with our own boys. Where’s the fun in that?

Although I do have to say, this year I received a lot of gifts that contained the word F*ck. Gotta appreciate a family that truly gets you. But I remember a time when my world was all about Barbie dolls. They were probably my most favorite toys as a kid and I think I played with them until I was around 14 years old. Just loved them. And Christmastime was when I’d hit the Barbie jackpot every year.

My Barbie was always a doctor at age 19. It didn’t matter if she was a super star, a princess, or even “Western” complete with a cowboy hat, blue eye shadow and a winking eye. She was uber intelligent and note this was way before Doogie Howser. She had a killer wardrobe and although she owned multiple wedding dresses, she just couldn’t say “I do” to Ken, no matter how nicely he looked in a tuxedo. Maybe it was because he was too damn happy all of the time.

I did have a Barbie townhouse but my favorite house was a one-level flat I created, complete with a “bouncing room” which consisted of one big pillow. There was always a big storm brewing so she had to batten down the hatches and stock up on her fondue supplies. And she would often get kidnapped by stalker 50’s version Ken who wore a white zippered jumpsuit that was just too small on him. Barbie also had a brief relationship with my brother’s Boba Fett action figure even though he was at least five inches taller. (In human-size, that’s probably about three feet.) But he was just too cool looking to pass up. And sometimes my Barbie had a daughter, Apricot of the Strawberry Shortcake dolls. You know, the ones with really large heads with hair that smelled fruity. Barbie: “Gee, your hair smells nice.”  Apricot: “Thanks, I washed it this morning.” Good times.

Maybe one day I’ll have a granddaughter who’ll like Barbies and I’ll be able to revisit that wonderful world of pink. I could introduce her to my little corner of the Barbie universe. I can just hear it now… “Grandma, you’re crazy.” My heart warms at the thought.

Happy Holidays y’all!

Brightest Blessings on a Happy and Healthy New Year!