Sidney turns four in two weeks, which means it’s been four years since I had a baby. It’s hard to believe that after being on the baby coaster for twelve years I’ve just slipped into maintenance mode. It’s even harder to believe that she’s already four.
For her birthday she asked for a computer, a dishwasher and a phone. When I told her that she was getting none of the above, she then asked for an American Girl doll. (Well played, Sidney, well played.)
You may think a four year old is a little young for a doll of such epic proportions, but when you have two older sisters, you never again want to set eyes on Fisher Price little people and their accompanying helicopters and tree houses. You want to be a contender and nobody was ever a contender with a Weeble.
Also, when you are four and have two older sisters, you have spent much of your life having to be content with the rejects: the dolls with no hair, an eye poked out, and red magic marker drawn in as poor girl’s blush. In short, the Armenian Girl Doll (looks like it spells American from a distance, but on closer examination….).***
Which girl does she want? Naturally, the doll brimming with Shiksappeal — Isabelle, the doll of the year:
To me this doll screams MEAN GIRL. I mean look at her:
I have had all I can take of mean girls and I’m just not sure I want to let this bitch in the house.
But given that this child has found me at my most worn down, and possibly even mellowest self, she’ll most likely win.
*** Not an Armenian joke.