I loved Barbie’s when I was little. I mostly loved to change their clothes and brush their hair. One of my brothers, who I will keep anonymous for my own preservation, liked to play Barbie’s with me. Now in all fairness he mostly stuck with the horse which he would spend tons of time brushing out its mane and tail. I don’t know how he did it but the poor horse always looked worse when he was done! 🙂 I love those memories though because we had so much fun together!
Now one of my other brothers ( I have 4 ) enjoyed “playing” Barbie’s also, as in hanging them from the door frame or taking their heads off. I know he did it just because it always made me holler. Mom would tell me that the second I stopped yelling about it he would quit doing it, but sometimes I’m a slow learner. One thing I did learn though is that if you take a dolls head off enough times, eventually it won’t stay on when you try to put it back together. That was the case of my Ken doll. What I had was a body and a head and for some reason I didn’t just throw him away.
I don’t know for sure the reason behind it, I’m fairly certain it was trying to make me feel better, but my mom decided to hide Kens head in my room. She told me that Ken was watching me and that he would until I found him. It sounds kinda creepy but it was hysterical! I searched for him for the longest time until I forgot, then mom would remind me that Ken was watching me and I would start the search all over again. It took me forever to find him amongst some dolls on a shelf next to my bed. That’s where it started. Mom would find him floating in her cup of tea or buried in the sugar bowl and I would find him tucked into a dresser drawer or in my clean pants pocket. We looked forward to the unexpectedness of it.
When I married and moved I forgot about him until there he was in a box from Dad and Mom, and it started all over again. He only makes one or two good hides a year now but we put extra time into how we are going to package him for his journey. One year mom sewed me a pair of pajamas and he was sewed into the pocket! I had to take out extra stitches to get him out. This year he was nestled in the curling ribbon on top of my present. I have big plans for how he will go back to mom, but for now he is sitting above my kitchen sink where we can talk while I wash dishes. He never fails to make me smile and to remind me that it’s the small things you do in your day-to-day that make the best memories for your kids. I’m thankful for parents that understood this and for the chance to pass it on to my own kids.