OK, so I hadn’t even had a chance to work through my guilt over stashing the first Bratz Doll that I stashed, when there was somebody at the door.Â It was a mother and child that could not attend the party this weekend.Â They stopped by to drop off a present for LatteGirl and wish her a belated birthday, with this beautifully wrapped box.
Do I even need to tell you at this point what was inside?
A Bratz Doll!
[insert silent scream here]
I gave the first mother a pass because she only had boys.Â This was a woman with only a daughter.Â I don’t get it.Â Â Now I am trying to see the other side of it, because honestly I don’t get it when women complain about Barbie Dolls.Â Sure Barbie may have an unrealistic body shape. But the entire clothing collection isn’t designed to make her look like she is out trying to turn tricks like these things do.
I was proud of myself that I managed to make it through her early years without that damn Purple Dinosaur breaching our home, and I guess I though if I tried hard enough that we could make it through without a Bratz penetration.Â But alas, she has found a way, and I feel so violated.