When all the damage had ceased, I was on the ground attempting to keep my son from falling out of the door of his “car,” while also saving enough time to cruise around with Barbie in her new vehicle and help organize my daughter’s dress station. As we all know, the tiaras, bracelets and scarves need drawers, but where do the fairy wings go?
Those questions, along with the confusing family tree of Barbie, were on display. What’s great (and many times confusing) about playing with a 3-year-old is that sometimes the stories of the characters (Barbie in this instance) don’t make any sense.
Santa sort of screwed up when he got my daughter a Barbie car, because Santa didn’t realize the Barbie on the box actually came with the car. So Santa, in his infinite wisdom, bought another Barbie, thus giving my daughter two Barbies on Christmas.
Since my daughter only has two hands, she can control only one Barbie and one car, allowing me the opportunity to play the other Barbie. During our travels in the car, my Barbie was the mom, sister, child and friend of the other Barbie. That’s difficult to comprehend how that’s possible, making the other developments, like how the car can fly and can drive up mountains, a lot less extraordinary.
I didn’t mind the twisted storyline because we were able to spend time together. My wife and I didn’t have to go into work, and while my son is still too young to grasp what’s going on, my daughter is at the perfect age of understanding the magic of the season.
And although Christmas happens every year, our attitudes change over time. The holiday plays a much different role for me nowadays than it did when my two brothers and I opened that Nintendo 23 years ago. While being a child at Christmas is great, I can’t imagine it being any better than the role I’m currently in during the holiday season.