Not really. I *like* when my coffee is hot enough to singe genitalia.
What I don't like is--well, several things:
First, that I had a moment of weakness and went there to buy The Bambina a chicken nugget happy meal. She LOVES the nuggets and the fries (thank you very little, Grandma and Grumpa for her introduction to The Evil Burger Empire).
Second, that the happy meals come with stupid toys I have to find a place for in my house.
Third, that it didn't occur to me to say "no toy, please."
Fourth, that the woman at the drive through asked, "Boy or Girl?" to determine whether she would put Barbie with Horse or a Hot Wheels car in the box. Without thinking, I said "Girl." Then I quickly had to add, "But I want the car. Not the Barbie."
Isn't it weird that instead of saying "do you want a Barbie or a Hot Wheels" that they ask if its for a girl or a boy? I guess most little boys wouldn't necessarily want Barbies--or maybe their parents just wouldn't go for it if they did. But why is my daughter--who is all about "the vroom vrooms" right now presumed to want a freakin' Barbie?
If I have my way, she will NEVER have a Barbie. Yeah yeah, the 47 inch boobs with 18 inch waist and all that. Definitely that. But more so the marketing juggernaut that liking Barbie entails. My niece caught the Barbie/Princess bug and it has been nonstop drama to keep her off the Barbie crack pipe when all of her friends have the car, the house, the outfits, the life sized doll, the panoply of "guy" friends and pseudo-ethnic friends who all play second banana to Ms. Whatsherlastnameanyway.
I don't know what it is. I just have a visceral reaction to the whole Barbie thing. Put simply, I'd rather spill boiling hot coffee down my skirt than be a parental slave to All Things Barbie.
3 comments:
I love those little chicken McNuggets. They're often clones, but nothing beats the deep-fried taste of artery-clogging death that coats that "all white meat" chicken.
I love them, perhaps too much. But I show restraint. I only have them maybe once every three months.
As for Barbie, the trans-generational blight upon young ladies, I'm afraid there is no cure, but there is treatment. Don't buy them, and don't tolerate their prescence in your house.
That's the kind of story that makes my blood boil. Presumption! Forced social agenda! Ugh.
I agree with what you say about Barbie, but it may become a force you cannot defend against. Some of my other Mom friends have had to finally yield to the invasion of the blonde hordes, since Ms. B is so ubiquitous. Anyway, she's odious, but Bambina might turn out all right even if she does occasionally ply the stiff-armed, glazed-eye plastic princess. I played with them, I'll admit, and yet at the same time I was integrating a Little League team - it didn't hurt my long-term progressive cred too much.
Okay, I was TOTALLY against Barbies (and we always got 2 cars one for each gender, but now boycott McD's altogether). But, Bunny Regina in an early attempt at rebellion coveted them, and nagged for them until finally DAD succumbed and said, "what's the big deal?" being a guy and not getting it at all. So she had Barbies, and this lasted for about 10 months. Then she figured it out for herself. Dad never did, and now he's not "husband" anymore.
So ultimately, the Bambina will choose wisely, even if you cave for a bit.
Post a Comment