To young for toys

Tommy / the who













In addition to my musing here, I also sporadically participate in my work blog. In theory, I write there once a week. In practice, I write there once a month. Thankfully there are three of us who write there, so my lack of involvement is not as problematic as it could be.



But anyway, today, I again forgot it was my turn. However, my colleague, familiar with this forgetfulness without hesitation (or even comment) simply filled in. Her post – on the worst toys ever.


Bad toys have been a running theme at work for a while. It started when (same colleague) read a book on the history of Barbie (and blogged on it.)


“Do you remember growing up Skipper?” I asked tripping down memory lane. Of course she didn’t. I’m old enough to be her mother. “When you lifted her arms she went thru puberty.” I explained seriously.


“No way.” My young friend answered. So… thanks to the glories of the internet, I found the info and pictures. The blog got up dated and we laughed a great deal. We even came up with some completely inappropriate Barbie’s ourselves.


Then a couple of weeks ago I came in to her with the news of Video Barbie and the FBI’s concerns that this really wasn’t safe. This Barbie has a camera built into her necklace (at least it wasn’t her neck) and a view screen on her back. No objectification there, nope. Nope. Again, my colleague couldn’t believe it.


But this has set us off on this trek of bad toys – and bad toys there are:


Pole dance doll. Come on? Really?


Dog tender Barbie – comes complete with dog that poops. Poop doubles as dog food. Great.


The vibrating Harry Potter Broom.


Now really, I like toys. Even stupid crappy toys. Even at the age I am. As I type this I sit at a desk that has a little rubber ducky reading a book. A hamster in a santa hat, a wooden snake that moves like a real one, two snow globes and various other things. And I’m at work. But I really have to wonder about the world some times …