The other day I saw a million dollar Barbie doll advertised
on the Internet. It was so expensive that a person had to take out a loan and
pay for it in 100 installments. For that kind of money, I expect to buy
something that has four bathrooms, six bedrooms, a butler, a maid and at least
two vintage cars in the garage.
It did set me to thinking about the days when my daughters
played with Barbie dolls. At that price I was sitting on a gold mine if I could
find where the girls stashed them when they got too old to be interested in
them anymore.
I found three tucked away in a box in the closet, alone with
one Ken doll. He wore a smile but then what feller wouldn’t after spending
thirty years with three gorgeous women in a dark closet.
This antique foursome would surely put my grandchildren
through college. I was so excited when I called the number at the end of the
advertisement that said the seller would be interested in purchasing more
dolls.
“Are all Barbie’s still in their original boxes?” the lady
asked.
“No, we tossed them in the trash about five minutes after
the girls took them out of the boxes to play with them.”
She gasped. “You mean human hands have touched them.”
Well, duh? They are toys!
“Sure they've been touched but I promise only in the most respectable ways. But hey, they’re toys! And they’re the real deal. They’ve got
the stamp on their backside saying so. One was born in Taiwan
“Okay,” she sighed. “Are they in mint condition? Original
rubber bands around their pony tails?”
I think she was grasping at straws. Rubber bands are still
pretty danged cheap.
“No,” I answered, “but their hair was washed in the best
shampoo in the world and I’m sure the girls used good crème rinse and
conditioner. And I promise they never had head lice one time. I can vouch that
they are clean because my girls took a bath with them every single night,” I
paused but she didn’t say anything so I went on. “It was a sad day when I
didn’t find them propped up on the edge of the tub. I wasn’t ready for my girls
to grow up and be more interested in their own hair, perfume, clothes and
boys.”
“Your Barbie dolls wouldn’t bring fifty cents at a garage
sale,” she said coldly and hung up on me.
I guess this means my grandchildren will have to work their
way through college. And I won’t ever have a butler or a maid. Oh, well! Back
in the box they go. Ken can have his sister wives back for another thirty
years.
If we'd only known! I like to have my red tricycle and blue pedal car! I saw on Pawn Stars those things are collectibles now! But what parent would give a child a toy and say don't touch it and don't take it out of the box! It'll be worth something someday! I even bought a Playboy magazine once cause they said the article by Jimmy Carter would be worth money someday! Threw that magazine in the trash about 15 years later! No one really cares what he said!
ReplyDeleteLove your comment, Julie! Even though I got in trouble for it with my MIL, who thought things should be set on a shelf and looked at, I let my kids play with their toys. They flat out wore most of them out playing with them but hey, that's what they were bought for in my opinion. My daughter was wishing that she had the little red wagon all three kids played with so that her children could use it...but alas, it wore out years and years ago!
ReplyDeleteI sure wish I had mine but I spent more time outside with mine playing with the boys and their army men. Yes I liked girl stuff but deeep down I'm the biggest Tom boy. My cousins (all boys) even blew several of mine up with m80's.
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