In the very beginning of the summer, a bunch of girlfriends, who I normally get together with to play bunco, came over. I had decided to do a riff on our regular bunco night. I asked each girlfriend to bring a Barbie, old or new, and I introduced them to a new game called Screw Your Neighbor. I guess I was in the mood to shake things up a bit.
One of my sisters is in the bunco group. She was very leery of the Barbie theme, as she is still traumatized by playing with Barbies when we were children. When we were young, I LOVED Barbies. She did not like them and wouldn't play them with me. So, I simply locked her in my room with me, put the Donny and Marie record on the turn-table, and serenaded her while holding her captive. She had to play with me or never leave the room. I don't understand, even now, how our parents didn't respond to her wails and accusations (undoubtedly true) of torture. Maybe "A Little Bit Country, A Little Bit Rock n' Roll" was so loud they couldn't hear her. Now if you would like a great piece of nostalgia, pause and click on this video. Watch it to the end to see both Marie and Donny sing with their respective backup singers. Something I never noticed as a child: Marie has the bearded white country dudes in white pants, Donny has the singers in simple dresses, one with an impressive afro, wearing corsages (Why? To make them less sexy?) It's really hilarious to see Donny try to look and act bad ass.
So when my sister came over and saw I had my old Donny and Marie Barbies out, she understandably was a bit uncomfortable. I got those Barbies on my 9th birthday, opening them at the table at Farrell's Ice Cream parlor, surrounded by obscene amounts of ice cream with plastic animals perched on top, being run around the restaurant on trays to the sounds of sirens by pimply teenage boys. It was a great party, I was so happy. I have a picture of myself with the Barbies at the restaurant, and I would go look for it but I'm currently icing my severely sprained ankle. (More on that later. Hence the reason I have time to sit here and write.)
Getting my old Barbies out of storage for the party was a bit shocking. They needed to be cleaned up, shampooed, styled, and dressed. It took me most of a day to get it all done. It took over my kitchen. When my boys and husband appeared from work and baseball, hoping for dinner, greeted instead by a Barbie spa in session, they were mightily confused. But not entirely surprised. I've been known to act a little strangely from time to time.
I reassured my sister and handed her a glass of wine. Had I known that wine would loosen her up enough to willingly get near the Barbies, I would have tried it many years ago.
The evening started out quite civil.
Then as the game progressed, and the wine bottles started piling up, things got a little out of control.
My favorite part of the evening was watching my sister have so much fun with the Barbies. It was even more fun than locking her in my room and torturing her.
I pray that my boys were asleep by the time the Barbies got wild. It would be really hard, if not impossible, to explain. Sorry, it's a girl thing.