Hello Dear Readers! For those of you who just woke up from a coma, congratulations! You’re just in time for Christmas!! Don’t worry if you haven’t got your shopping done yet. I haven’t either and I haven’t even been in a coma. So while I’m out shopping, here’s a little Christmas shopping story about the year my daughter wanted a My Size Barbie!
Big Bucks Barbie
One year my daughter asked Santa for a “My Size Barbie.” A “My Size Barbie” is a Barbie doll that has been fed huge amounts of hormones at the factory causing her to become the size of Daryl Hannah.
To ensure that “My Size Barbie” would be in stock, I went to the toy store early. I approached the Barbie aisle and was about to ask where I might find The Big One, when I tripped over a humongous box containing “My Size Barbie” nearly breaking “My Size Arm.”
The adrenalin rush I experienced from the fall enabled me to heft the package containing The Incredible Babs onto my cart, but not being Arnold Schwartzenegger (or even Maria Shriver), I wasn’t strong enough to maneuver the box so that I could see the price tag.
I inched my Barbie-burdened cart to the checkout stand where it took four of us to hoist The Big Gal onto the scanner, and I mentally noted that perhaps some low-fat Barbie cuisine would make an apropos stocking stuffer.
Being an alert consumer, I had estimated the price at around $40, $50 or maybe even $60.
“Do you know how much this is?” I asked the clerk.
“I’ll let you know in a sec, hon,” she said as she fired up the jaws of life to help her run Buxom Barb over the scanner.
As I waited for the price to appear, I recalled a Christmas of long ago when I had received a Barbie Dream House. My mother had lovingly assembled it all by herself. It had taken her the better part of the Kennedy administration.
That had been my favorite Christmas and I owed it all to my mother and to my Barbie. How ironic that this Christmas I would be giving my daughter The Mother of All Barbies.
“Excuse me ma’am? The “My Size Barbie’ is $128. Did you still want it?”
One-hundred and twenty-eight dollars! Suddenly everything began to move in slow motion. I could feel myself turning white . . . then red . . . then green . . . like an aluminum Christmas tree on a rotating stand.
I looked at the clerk, then back at the 20 or so people waiting in line behind me. They were all staring at me and sighing a lot. Maybe they were thinking that I shouldn’t let my daughter down for a few lousy bucks and that I should forget the expense because, after all, it was Christmas. Finally, a gentleman from the back of the line offer his advice:
“Move it lady!”
Then the clerk from the neighboring checkout stand shouted over, ” My niece has one of those and they can wear the same clothes!” And then, just to bring it on home, she added, “I think she comes with an entire wardrobe!”
The clerk and I quickly tried to figure out how many outfits were included, but that information was on the opposite side of the box and somebody else was using the forklift.
In the end, I paid with a check so big it would have made “My Size Barbie” proud. And as the crane lowered The Ultimate Barbie onto the roof of my car, I knew in my heart I had made the right decision.
I say brief because the day after Christmas, I made “My Size Barbie” go out and get a job.
Until next time . . . I love you
9 thoughts on “Big Bucks Barbie”
Did your daughter want the “My Size” Barbie house and car the next year ?
Well I totally encouraged her to want the Barbie house and car. But it was really me who wanted them!! (And I still do truth be told)
I rubbed my eyes and asked: “Is this some kind of holiday?”
Ah!! That old Christmas Coma trick! Now you’re talkin’!
I heard “My Size” Barbie was popular in the workplace, although she sometimes appeared to be a little stiff in meetings. The boss loved her because she never complained her assignments (she simply didn’t do them) and always had a big smile on her face (no matter how stupid or catty his jokes were).
Haha! Now that’s a fun image! Plus you’ve given me an idea . . . I’d love to see a Me Too Barbie. She could come with 3 fat middle aged bosses. And when you push a button her hand slaps their faces!
A couple of months ago, I started writing a piece entitled “Interview with White Supremacist Barbie.” In it she expresses her extreme right-wing views on immigration and gun control. I had to stop before I finished the article as my own writing was making me nauseous. However, I’m sure there would be a good market for such a Barbie if one was available.
Oh I can see how you could go down the white Supremacist rabbit hole on that one. And I had to laugh because I have made myself nauseous with my writing before. (Which we really should write about). That said, I do think there would be a market for Marie Antoinette Barbie with her own guillotine and removable head. I think it would bring more little boys into the Barbie market.
You had me right up until the last paragraph. My spine already tingled in recognition to the personal and intimate knowing of ‘aluminium Christmas tree on a rotating stand’ disorder at a point of sale installation.
Now, I stand alone in a small French town on the bank of the fast moving Vienne river and it seems to me that the time I have spent memorising every one of your posts so far (alphabetically, by first letter of title) has been wasted.
Linda, *BARBIES* do not *WORK*
Ask Daryl Hannah or Lolita Richi or Ivanka.
How am I meant to re-sell your stuff under my own name to Chinese students on the Shanghai University American Language course if you keep stitching me up? I’m holding back $20. I need you to focus.