But first, I wanted to show you this panda bear my daughter brought home from a birthday party. A birthday party that somehow involved "building" things. You know what I mean. In any case, she had a great time. A great time was had by all! Oh, thank God (seriously, thank GOD!) another girl's mom brought my daughter to the party. God, I am coming to hate kids' birthday parties. Hate.
So, here's the panda.
As I sat on my daughter's bed last night, trying to work out how the eff the bedwetting alarm system was supposed to work, hopefully without traumatizing my daughter, I started looking at this bear. Staring at it, really.
And here's what I noticed. This bear looks pissed that she (or he) is wearing a cheerleading outfit. Pissed. So, look again.
Pissed.
Oh and before I sign off, I should also tell you that I, myself, am pissed at Barbie. Pissed. I was at the Tar-zzhhay buying a present for this same birthday party and I noticed that still (STILL!) the only career options open to her are teacher, babysitter/day care worker, vet (or vet tech?), ice skater and rock star. Couldn't they, for the sake of PR, throw out a Scientist Barbie? Even if she sells not a single time? My conscience would be a hell of a lot clearer. I mean, I know that it's incredibly hard to be a veterinarian and that those are some smart, science-y ladies, but still. Why not orthopedic surgeon? Cardiologist? Neurologist?
OK, that's all. I found another haunted house that would've been there when Phebe was alive and that is, in my opinion, related to her. It's led to all kinds of magical thinking on my part. You can imagine.
Until next time...
I would buy scientist barbie. She would be super fun with her test tubes and beakers and a little cardboard periodic table of elements!
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