Wordful Wednesday: The Complete Package?

The following 453-word post was composed as part of the Random Complexity Writing Challenge. Enjoy!

As she enters middle age, I have a confession to make. I wanted to like Barbie. I really did. But Ken's sexuality got in the way.

My older cousin had the whole collection: well, at least what was available at the time. Barbie. Her boyfriend, Ken. A Barbie Jeep. And, of course, a Barbie Doll House. Oh, how I coveted that doll house!

When my Cuz would come over to play, we'd play "Barbie." But I never really got to actually play with Barbie. Or Ken. I was always relegated to "taking care of the house," or "driving the Jeep."

We were middle class, but my SAHM didn't earn a paycheck. So that meant No New Barbies for me. I would have to wait.

I come from a "hand-me-down" culture. When Cuz grew out of her party dresses, they went to me. When she tired of her toys, same thing. And with the four-year gulf between us, I just knew it was only a matter of time before Barbie and Ken~and all their cool accessories~would be mine.

My dreams came true sooner, rather than later. Cuz had just hit middle school, and hormones had just hit her. I was only 8 years old; I only had eyes for Barbie and Ken.

Until they arrived at my house, that is.

Growing up in a family of all girls (except for my Dad and the cat, of course), I was curious. I gathered up Barbie and Ken and all the paraphernalia that my Aunt had just dropped off at our house and I headed for the privacy of my bedroom. I'm a modest person. I figured Ken would be, too.

I decided that Barbie wanted to take Ken and the Jeep and go on a picnic. So I changed her into more casual attire. Ken, who was wearing slacks and a nice shirt, probably wanted to get more comfortable, too.

I peeled off Ken's nylon shirt, his slacks. Then I peeked in his briefs. Ken, you might say, was not the complete package. In fact, he had no package at all.

Ken changed into his picnicwear. He and Barbie and I took the Jeep for a spin in the backyard. My neighbor, Peter, was playing on the tire swing. That seemed a lot more fun than scooting plastic dolls around in the crabgrass and making up faux picnic dialogue.

I left Barbie and Ken under the apple tree. The rain came down in buckets that night. The rest, as they say, is history.

Every time I'm in a toy store, I swing by the Barbie aisle. I made eye contact with Ken the other day. I thought I saw him wink. I, of course, blushed.

Participating in Angie's Wordful Wednesday...please look her up!

Wordful Wednesday: With Apologies to Theodor Seuss Geisel

This birthday tribute to Dr. Seuss was scribbled as part of the Random Complexity Writing Challenge. 190 words. And PS: This poem was created as part of Angie's Wordful Wednesday.

One year two year

red year blue year.

Black year blue year

old year new year.

One might have a little star

One might feature a new car

Say! What a lot of years there are.

Yes. Some were red. And some were blue.

Just ask George Bush, and Obama, too!

Some were sad.

And some were glad.

And some years were you

very, very bad?

Why were they sad and glad and bad?

I do not know.

I've asked my Dad.

We learned to read with your silly fish

your zany Whos, and with Horton, too.

We followed the antics

of those who did that:

The Sneetches, The Grinch

and The Cat in The Hat.

So we'd like to wish you

48 hours late

the birthday of birthdays,

you just are so great!

'Cause young children still read

to remember your day.

Green Eggs and Ham

just won't go away!

It's hard to believe

you're one hundred and five.

When we read your short books

you're most surely alive!

So, please, take this poem

for what it is worth

we all wanted to remember

the day of your birth!

That Was Then...

First February entry in the Random Complexity Writing Challenge

232 words

Ode to a Burrito Baby

This time back then...

Dad was shoveling between blizzards.

They kept marching to our doorstep

one right after the other.

This time back then...

You were screaming, all wrapped

up in your binky like a burrito.

But

the nurses knew just what to do.

This time back then...

The doctor cut off

my meds...well, the strong ones, anyway.

And I had to make do

with codeine-laced Tylenol.

This time back then...

we brought you home from the hospital

and Daddy said, "Which way is up?"

and "Where's the 'off' button' on this thing?"

But you ignored him

and kept exercising those vocal chords.

Til your face turned scarlet, I might add.

This time back then...

you didn't know how to tell time,

and so you slept like a baby

(duh!)

during daylight hours,

and shrieked like a banshee

All

Night

Long.

This time back then...

Daddy would bundle you up

in your car seat,

and you'd go for a ride.

With Mr. Clown, dangling by one

thin piece of orange yarn hair.

Sweet slumbers.

This time back then...

I memorized the first three

Dr. Seuss books,

because you had so many

ear infections

you decided to stay up

with the Late, Late Show.

Madeline kept you company, too.

Two decades passed like

pages blown off a calendar

in a 1940s movie.

Where did all those days go?

Happy Birthday to an Old Dog!

Aunt Julie is on vacation, which means she's missing a Major Milestone back home. Trouble Elizabeth (remember, Julie has no girls, so had to grant the family surname to someone, even if he is a male dog) turns 16 today. Little Red, Julie's soon-to-be DIL, is dog-sitting while The Pop'r Queen is at the beach.

Julie picks up the Trouble Elizabeth tale: "We found him from an ad in the newspaper. There were lots of Springer Spaniel ads that week, and most were $350 or so. The ad for Trouble said $50. I called, to see if it was a typo. No. Why so cheap? Turns out the owner had 12 puppies to find homes for."

Trouble Eliz turned out to be a rabbit-chasing machine. "Almost every morning we’d let him out and he’d take off and not come back 'til he could hardly move, and the neighborhood was free of bunnies for another day," she remembers. "My kids were late many mornings for school because we were scouring the streets in our SUV, calling 'Trouble! Trouble!' and eventually 'Trouble Elizabeth! You get over here right this minute!' "

Julie and Uncle Lynn, The Pop'r King, came up with a great way to wake up their boys in the winter. "We had a habit of taking him outside to play and then letting him jump on the boys' beds to wake them up. Cold toes, cold nose…"

Trouble Elizabeth's alarm clock duties, however, were numbered. "One Sunday morning he jumped off the bed, but his leg got caught between the mattress and footboard, and snapped," Julie says. "Since we lived in a rural area, the local vet was a large animal vet, and his suggestion was to shoot him and get another dog! Good thing we lived near Madison and the University of Wisconsin School of Veterinary Medicine! One day and $1,000 later, he was good as new!"

There are too many Trouble Elizabeth stories to tell here, "but needless to say, it was the best $50 we ever spent!" Aunt Julie declares. "He's an old doggy, but all we want is another 16 years. What a great dog!"

Like a lot of 112-year-old men, Trouble Elizabeth has become mostly an indoor doggy, and leads a pretty pampered life. His various ailments come and go; he has a "dribbling" problem, among others, and wears a Doggy Diaper. The Pop'rs Family calls him "Captain Underpants"!

Auntie J. says Trouble's aches and pains are pretty minor, though. "As long as he still barks at the mailman and wags his tail when we come home, we can cope!"