I was visiting my sister Liz in North Carolina. We were sitting on her porch discussing the latest movies that were out in the theaters when I couldn’t help but voice my opinion on one.
“Everyone’s talking about the Barbie movie.” I shook my head and sighed. “I hated playing Barbie when we were little.”
“Really?” Liz looked confused. “I loved playing Barbie!”
I looked over at her and raised my eyebrows. “Of course you did! Because you had the Barbie Dream House and Barbie Corvette.” I started to laugh.
“It wasn’t the real Dream House. It was more like a ranch.” She said as she shrugged her shoulders.
“Well, while you were living in your Barbie Dream House my Barbie lived under my bed.” I started to laugh at the memory. “And while your Barbie drove around in her Corvette my Barbie drove around in an empty tissue box!”
My sister looked even more confused. “I don’t remember that.”
“Of course you don’t!” I laughed even harder. “Because you were living in a Barbie ranch and driving Barbies Corvette!”
“I do remember I used to love having dinner parties at that house.”
“Oh, I remember those!” I was still laughed. “While you were getting ready, driving to the pretend store and getting your dream house ready I was wedged under my bed watching dust bunnies swirl around me and keeping myself busy by chewing on Barbies hands!”
“You chewed your Barbies hands?”
“Yup!” I nodded my head. “I sure did.”
Liz shook her head. “Why?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess it was because I was so bored.” I grabbed one of the pillows next to me and placed it behind my back. “The worst part was when you would announce the theme of your party and how you wanted Barbie to dress for the event.”
“Why was that the worst part?”
“Because,” I looked over at her raising my eyebrows again. “all my Barbies hands were chewed up and I couldn’t get her arms through any of the sleeves!” I started to laugh. “I’d pull up to your dream house in my tissue box, half dressed because I couldn’t get her clothes on!”
Liz was shaking her head and laughing. “I swear I don’t remember any of that!”
“Well, that’s how I remember playing Barbie.” I sighed. “So I’m pretty sure that’s why I’m not a Barbie girl.”
We sat quietly for a moment before I came to another realization. “You know, now that I think about it, you still like throwing theme parties.”
“I do.” She said as she put her legs up on the ottoman. “I’m thinking about having another murder mystery dinner party this fall.”
“Oh, I remember your last one!” I was holding up my pointer finger. “Didn’t you ask all your guests to come dressed as their character they were assigned?”
Liz nodded. “I did.”
“Well.” I sighed again. “Hopefully I’ve progressed enough from our Barbie days not to show up half dressed and driving a tissue box to the next theme party I’m invited to.”
Slice of Life 