30 Day Blog Challenge: Day 7

ImageYour favorite childhood toys.

Probably Barbies. I had a whole collection of them as a child. I gave them names, lives, family, homes, pink corvettes and big SUV’s to carry a camper. I do distinctly remember a family I created, The Wakefields. There was Lena, Jessica, Anna (me) to represent myself and my two sisters. My oldest sister died when I was young, and the doll I dubbed as her was meant to not replace her, but to feel like she was still around. I carried Lena everywhere. She looked nothing like my sister, or even Barbie, for that matter, because she was an Egyptian Princess doll from a Princess collection. I was obsessed with The Mummy and that brought to life my obsession I still harbor today for ancient Egypt. If you’ve ever seen the movie The Little Princess, there’s a scene where the girls dad tells her dolls are alive and always watching. It kind of stuck with me, because I felt like they were real. And to me, they were. Once I got to old for them, I felt bad keeping them unloved and unplayed with. It was like Toy Story 3, where I was Andy, all grown up, and my toys needed a new family. So I gave them to this one girl who didn’t have lots of nice things, and her brother ended up popping off their heads. I’d still like to punch him in the face for defiling my barbies like that. Even now, I wish I had kept Lena doll at least out of my hundreds of barbies I gave away, so I could give it to my daughter one day. Looking on Amazon, the same doll is five times worth what I paid for it, but I always felt dolls should be played with, not kept in a box. What’s the point of a toy in a box?

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