One recent warm day, my adorable great niece allowed her hand-me-down Barbie dolls to skinny dip in a cooler. (For what it’s worth, my niece also never dresses her baby dolls. Not even when they go to the doctor or to church.)
I smiled when I saw a photo of the naked dolls surrounded by water, ice, and the leftover refreshments my nephew-in-law had packed to work. My niece’s resourcefulness reminded me of how my Barbies and I had made do without a swimming pool.
Before I go further, I need to explain that I did not pine for a Barbie swimming pool. I had a Barbie Dreamhouse, aka the best Christmas present ever, and that’s all I wanted. But there’s no denying that Barbie dolls need to cool off. Even thinking about carrying around all that hair during a sweltering summer makes me sweat.
So, when my Barbies required a break from the humidity, I took them for a swim in a mud puddle. And not just any mud puddle, but the one created by the massive tires on the school bus. (For what it’s worth, my adorable niece calls mud puddles “muddy puddles.”)
Careful not to let the dolls’ hair touch the water – once you wet a Barbie’s hair, you might as well shave her head – I let them splash around in the water until their clothes and plastic skin became stained by the brown water comprising the makeshift pool. Then, I shook off the water and placed the dolls on the ground to sun.
Later, I washed away the grime and dressed them in clean clothes, accessorizing with matching earrings. And by earrings, I mean stick pins because my Barbies didn’t have store-bought jewelry. Although, technically, the pins were bought in a store, so I guess that’s not true.
I had to be careful when putting pins, aka earrings, in Barbie’s ears. Indeed, I had to insert them at an angle or the pins would protrude the other side of her head. Not only would this hurt her, but the pins would also pierce my fingers every time my hand accidentally grazed her head.
With my Barbies attired for an exciting night on the town, they hopped in their cars. And by cars I mean my coloring books, which I pulled around the room, because I didn’t have a Barbie car.
This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.