Over at the Blogfathers’ site, there’s been some discussion about the evil that lurks at Toys’R’Us. But really, hello? The Death Star of toy stores? It’s ALL evil. And we’re ALL, at one time or another, sucked into its Tractor Beam. Who among us hasn’t flirted with the Dark Side, having been exposed to a) the promise of the sweet, sweet relief of rested arms (only gained once Baby has been put at the controls of standard-Death-Star-issue Command Center from which, presumably, she will blow whole planets to smithereens), or b) the plaintive cries of the child who is seduced by the glitter and glam of the playsluts – the Bratz, the Barbies, et. al. – who leer suggestively in the aisles of the Death Star.
I’ve no experience yet of the latter, as Baby still prefers bright simple colours and shapes and is (once settled down comfortably in my arms/the baby jail/Central Command) easily amused by any manner of object. But the day, I fear, will come, when she screams for something, in Dutch’s words, pink and slutty. Something else to keep me awake at night once I’ve exhausted my obsessive struggle against ugly baby gear.
But I have a weapon.
This is not the doll you’re looking for…
Bicephala, or ‘Biccy,’ as she is known to her tight inner circle of friends, is the Cool Kid Around Here. She stays out of the politics of Baby’s world, and avoids the controversies and struggles for power that preoccupy most of the other toys (hello, Whoozit?). She just hangs back (yeah, there’s a pack of Marlboros tucked into that skirt) and observes, biding her time until she is needed.
And that time will come, my friends. Of this there is no doubt. When the Bratz and Barbie brigade loom on the horizon, she’ll be ready.
And she will Kick. Some. Ass.
Originally published at www.herbadmother.com