Emo barbie meets punk barbies

I wasn’t really listening to dd’s detailed description of the public and secret life of fairy barbies, but I did switch on when she said:

Ella – And black fairy barbies like black clothes.
Me [nodding knowingly] – Ah, they’re emo barbies.
Ella [without even blinking] – Yes, and emo barbies wear emo clothes.

I quite liked that image. Maybe I should sell that idea to Mattel.

And while we are on the barbie topic: if the makers of the fairy barbie dolls did not want kids to give their dolls a punk hairdo, they should darn well not have given them bright pink and purple hair.

But I did somehow feel obliged to reprimand my 3yo hairdresser in training after I discovered the pink and purple fairy hair clippings on the carpet. Which elicited a classic puberesque you-are-so-mean-to-me-mum outburst, with storming off in true dramaqueen style and all. Very entertaining. And it gave me an opportunity to explain – again – that being mean meant being angry for no reason. If mums were angry for a good reason – for example because the kid did something they knew they were not allowed to do, like cutting their brand new doll’s hair with mummy’s scissors – it was called ‘being fair’.

Advertisements

Ageing

This morning in the car:

Ella – Hey mum! I don’t do any accidents anymore.
Me – No. Um, well actually you had one last night, remember?
Ella – Yeah, but I’m bigger now.
Me – That’s right. You’re one day older now.
Ella – I’m not old!
Me – I said ‘oldER’.
Ella – I’m not old, I’m young. You’re very old mum.
Me – Thanks sweetie.