Barbies are the Bomb

We had family in town this weekend for State Hockey. My parents stayed here at the house. And, for the convenience of those that had to be at the tournament early, we had my niece, Lexi, with us too.

The Boy and I brought her home with us after dinner with my brother’s family on Friday. We watched some Nickelodeon. It turns out that all three of us would have liked The History Channel more. Lessons learned.

Yesterday, Lexi went to the store and bought what every eight year old girl does when they have extra money: Barbie. She also got a Barbie wardrobe/closet/case thing. As soon as she brought it out and my house, I knew she was going to have help.

Something told me Oliver would be all about the Barbie. And indeed he was.

For one thing, the case was the perfect height for chin scratching. He sat next to Lexi on the floor for an hour, scratching his chin and picking out the next outfit for Barbie when Lexi held up his choices.

Obi came through a couple times and picked out some outfits as well. Of course you’d wear a short silver disco dress to go to the grocery store! What other option could there be? But once Barbie was dressed for the store, Obi left to check out the other people that were here to visit.

Lexi also threw flat mousie for Obi. She scratched Oliver’s head. She generally delighted the fuzzy kittehs. When we came back without her, they were disappointed.

But then I made it up to them: nap time. After a weekend of being good hosts, Oliver was ready to lay on the couch for a serious snuggle. For hours. Now he is upstairs to catch up on his afternoon nap that he missed while he was sleeping on the couch with me. Obi is snoozing at my feet.

And they are both, I think, dreaming of Barbie.

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