Here it is folks. A veritable symbol of the excess of my childhood and my Mother's penchant for expressing her love through gifts; The Barbie motorhome:
Isn’t it glorious? You could fit a veritable army of plastic blond bombshells in this baby. It came complete with living room, kitchen and bath.
Of course, after removing the mouse turds from the floor and wiping it down with an entire container of anti-bacterial wipes, the kids wanted to play with it. Aaron especially. So I dug out the Barbies that Mom had sent home with me months earlier and the memories just came flooding back.
Check this guy out. I call him Tubbs. If you look closely you’ll see that he’s not wearing socks. I don’t know if he came that way or if his socks got lost at some point in time, but you can’t deny that he looks like an authentic Miami Vice action figure.
I like to refer to these two as Madonna and George Michael. Sure they’re not as rough around the edges as the real things were, but every time I look at her the song “Dress you up in my love” plays on a loop in my head, and this guy – well let’s just say I’d get a little suspicious if he and Tubbs wandered into the bathroom of the mobile home together.
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