Now for those of you who don’t know
– or those of you who are male – Midge is Barbie’s friend. Or
maybe her cousin. Truthfully, I don’t know Midge’s exact
relationship to Barbie. I just know that I had a Midge doll when I
was a kid – and she was definitely not pregnant.
Now for those of you who don’t know – or those of you who are male – Midge is Barbie’s friend. Or maybe her cousin. Truthfully, I don’t know Midge’s exact relationship to Barbie. I just know that I had a Midge doll when I was a kid – and she was definitely not pregnant.
But she is now. Yes indeed, Midge is knocked up. I was shocked. Who knew those dolls could do that? Look, it’s been a while since I played with Barbie, Midge and the gang, but the last time I checked, they weren’t anatomically correct.
And, before you ask, Midge is married. No, not to Ken. To some doll named Alan – who doesn’t wear socks and has a goofy, slicked-back, plastic hairdo that closely resembles the one Dracula wears. Personally, I would have gone for GI Joe, but I guess Midge wasn’t being too picky, what with her condition and all.
All that aside, I am seriously wondering what the heck Mattel was thinking when they decided on this doll. In toys, some reality is necessary – but too much is just weird. Look, when I was a kid, my sister had a doll that you fed and then she would soil her diapers – the doll, not my sister.
To me, that was too much reality. The fun of that doll was in the feeding, not the changing. Please. If people liked changing diapers, nobody on earth would be potty-trained.
But Midge and her baby – they’re too much reality and, surprisingly, not enough. First of all, there’s the whole question of how the baby got in Midge’s tummy. According to the package, the baby just pops in and out of Midge’s stomach pouch.
Hello?
Do we really want Midge demonstrating her version of the birds and the bees to our kids? I don’t want to be there when your child is in her high school health class and tells the teacher, “That isn’t how it works for Midge …” Your kid will never recover from the humiliation.
And as for the birth – give me a break. I’m not up on the latest high-tech birthing stuff, but even in 2003 there’s still a little bit more to giving birth than just popping a baby out of your tummy. Frankly, I’d have a lot more respect for Mattel if, during labor, Midge grabbed Dr. Barbie’s head, twisted it around and screamed in her face “Give me drugs NOW, you evil witch!”
And let’s not even get into the Dr. Barbie stuff. Five years ago, Barbie couldn’t do math. And now she’s gone to med school?
Finally, is there anyone who believes that Midge could keep having the same baby over and over and not gain one ounce of weight on her size 0 doll body? That doesn’t happen in real life. Trust me. Nobody is a size 0 after having a kid – unless you starve yourself and marry a plastic surgeon.
So where is the reality in reality toys? I’m not sure. But it frightens me that this trend may continue. Next we might have dog toys that need to be housebroken over and over again, leaving real stains on Mommy’s real carpet. Or Monopoly that uses Daddy’s savings account. Or maybe a Martha Stewart doll that gives stock tips – and then yells at you for folding your sheets incorrectly.
I don’t need that kind of reality. I guess Midge will stay at the store, far away from my house. Of course, I could use that Martha doll. My 401(k) needs a little help – and so does the linen closet.
