So I’m not quite sure what’s going on here with Fairy Barbie and I’m also not sure what kind of game Avery was playing. We found Fairy Barbie in this position (well, more or less… full disclosure: she was lying next to the vacuum cleaner and my husband didn’t think it would make a good shot), with syringe inserted where her wings used to be.
Whatever else is going on, I can usually count on Avery to make me laugh. When we found the doll the conversation deteriorated rapidly… i.e. “Fairy Barbie lost her wings and picked up a habit.” Definitely entertaining.
When I was around 10 I gave one of my dolls a punk haircut and streaked her hair different colors with eye shadow. Hey, it was the 80’s, or close enough. I’m proud to watch Avery lending her spirit to her imaginary games. I’m not too worried about subversive themes… yet. Right now, I’m still enchanted with her creativity. I’m fascinated just watching her. So few of us retain that limitless imagination as we age. It’s very sad. Maybe if I watch her carefully, I’ll regain some of my own childlike creativity. It can’t hurt.