Ah, Christmas. The gift-giving extravaganza that unites many a young child with a plastic-bodied, synthetic-haired baby. Sometimes that baby is blessed with a cherubic face and chubby thighs, and sometimes that newest member of the family looks more like a woman of the night, but with 20 inch eyeballs and a 12 inch waist.
Every time my daughter receives a long-haired doll as a gift, the lifecycle is exactly the same.
The doll is presented to my four-year-old in a plastic tomb. Without fail, she squeals with delight and wonder when opening her gifts. It’s really fun to watch.
She finally convinces a grown-up or her six-year-old brother to help her free her new best friend from the plastic shackles that are keeping them apart.
3. The Honeymoon
My girl lovingly caresses her friend, inspecting her clothing and accessories, and brushing her hair gently. Whichever nimble-fingered family member helped her with the packaging is again called upon to help secure hair clips or attach jewelry. All pieces are laid out in an organized fashion, and promises are made to keep track of all of the gear.
4. Seven Minute Itch
I’m being generous here. It’s usually more like five minutes before she’s got a wandering eye, thinking the toys are brighter on the other side of the room. She is less attentive to her beloved, and little things, like hair getting stuck in the brush, are annoying her. She still loves her new doll, she’s just not in love with her.
It’s not permanent, just a break. During that time, I am the one to pick up the pieces. Literally, because all of these dolls come with a shit-ton of pieces. Usually by now, about 17 minutes in, we’ve already lost a shoe, and even if the doll is Cinderella, I know that slipper will never be found. I often take this opportunity to brush the doll’s hair again, because I’ve seen this story enough to know that the shiny, new doll hair doesn’t last. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” I whisper as I brush. “Before you know it, you’ll have knots in your hair the size of Ken’s rock-hard butt cheeks.”
6. Making Up
The lonely toy receives a fresh dose of love several hours later, and peaks at bedtime. “I can’t sleep without my new dolly!” she moans. “I love her!” Somehow, she finds space in her bed for one more thing, no doubt booting one of her 127 blankets or 14 pillow pets to make room for her newest obsession.
7. The Dumping
Here is where our fallen are laid to rest, ready for a playdate, where fresh eyes can see these discarded, mangled bodies for what they once were, and what, with a little love, they could become again.
It’s a hard, but noble life, being a doll in our house. Don’t worry, little doll. You will be loved again, most certainly when it is suggested that we give you away to a child who will treat you properly.
18 thoughts on “A Day in the Life of a Doll”
Cracking up and wishing there was a way to attach a picture to a comment! We had a little friend of Abby’s over here recently, and she was quite concerned that every single one of our Barbies is sans clothes! ;)-Ashley
I didn’t realize there was any other way for a Barbie to live! Some of them wear clothes?!
So true!!! Love it!
She’s a fickle girl!
So so funny!
Thanks! This will be happening at your house soon!
Oh, the hair. The hair that is silky but for a moment. Love it! I have an entire fourth bedroom still occupied by Barbies. Over 200 of them. Granted, they got played with a ton in their days — which between both girls lasted well over twelve years — but there they lay in their tub tombs, naked and cold. At least the American Girls are still sitting in their 80$ school desks in the corner of their rooms. Sure, they’re covered in dust, but at least they can breathe.
200 Barbies?! That must look like a dumping ground from a bad Criminal Minds episode. I confess, we treat our American Girl doll with the same regard as a $7 Barbie doll. We really shouldn’t have nice things.
Ima get me an apple. Still laughing.
Later there was a bite missing from one of the apples in that bowl. I blamed the kids. I guess I was wrong.
Ha! Spot on! Between my two girls, we had many dolls who died the noble death. There should be a doll memorial somewhere…
“Here lies Dolly. She liked pretty shoes and not being dragged around by her hair.”
Has she been introduced to American Girl yet? I had a whole new outlook on how we treated dolls in our house once those high dollar hoochies entered the picture.
She got an American Girl doll this Christmas. It was a hand-me-down gift from Meredith at Does This Match? and it has been treated better than the Barbies and Disney princesses, but mostly just sits there judging us. If I would have paid for her myself, that damn doll would have her own room.
Oh those poor dollies!I will say the interest in them has come and gone, but my old “my friend Mandy doll” has been the favorite for awhile now. Of course, the one we didnt pay anything for!
Is it a doll from when you were a kid? How special!
I so dig your observational humor. Dig it the whole to China. Remember digging to China as a kid? I need more sleep.
Thank you for saying that. Observational humor is my very favorite. Of course I remember digging to China. It was my favorite mode of travel.