Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Tanner, the pooping dog.
Ugh. What's a girl to do? She gets the pooper-scooper barbie, then they tell her she can't have it anymore. It's "dangerous."
Dangerous? How about disturbing! Okay, I'm fine with the whole pooping dog thing. Yeah, dogs do it. And yay for Barbie, she's socially responsible, she cleans up after her dog. Fashionably and neatly. No grocery store bag for Barbie - she keeps it at arm's length.
The disturbing part is near where the label "scooper" is. She dumps the do into the little can she's got her foot on. And the poop goes right back into the food container! Voila! Poop is magically food again, with no composting needed! Yuck, yuck, and yuck again.
I have a good friend who mentioned once, when I showed her my daughter's magic dog and her daughter finished squee-ing, that she tried to imagine the meeting that they had at the Barbie company. "Hey, I've got an idea! We've done Doctor Barbie, Veternarian Barbie, Sleepover Barbie -- how about Pooper Scooper Barbie? Whaddya think, Bob?" "John, I think it's positively brilliant! Press on the dog's tail, and out drops a load!" Surely it actually came about at a happy hour gone too long. Forget about the dangerous magnets.
It's no wonder my mother never let us have Barbies. She always claimed they were promising us something we'd never have (read: giant rack), but maybe it was to protect us. From being disturbed.