My Invitation to a Barbie Party

I was invited to a Barbie Party by a younger girl friend.  I was so excited and also too embarrassed to admit I didn’t know what kind of party it was.  In fact, I thought I knew.  My version of a Barbie Party was a group of girls getting together to drink cosmos and talk about anything that entered the conversation.  I came up with the conclusion you wore pink of course and some sort of mule styled shoes. As the date got closer, I started to get an uneasy feeling about it all.  I didn’t want to be out of the know and just ask what is a Barbie party to my friend.  I didn’t want to be uncool, so I asked my daughter, who just laughed at me and said, “I wasn’t invited!”  Okay she was happy just to leave me flapping in the wind.  I just kept my vision in mind and purchased a pair of straight leg jeans.  Lord knows I have plenty of pink up in here.

The day of the party I dropped off a plate of appetizers and a salad at the party location.  My girl asked if I wanted to see the cake?  Sure I did, what kind of friend do you think I am?  You my girl, your super excited about your birthday cake.  You’ve been talking about it all week.  When she opened the box, it was a penis cake?  OMG what kind of party was this?  It just didn’t matter at this point.  I wasn’t gonna show all up in the strip club with no dollar bills!  When I got back to the house I asked my daughter if a Barbie Party was a exotic party or a male dancer party or maybe even a toy party?  She just laughed and said, “Worse.”  Okay, I’m always telling my kids to use their words so I looked it up in the dictionary.  The Urban Dictionary and guess what, there is actually a definition in there.  I just can’t make this stuff up!

“Barbie party – incapacitating a female and or females by either a club or drug and having your way with their unconscious body or bodies, this is usually performed by the incapacitator alone, friends must be very trust worthy! usually performed only on really hot chicks that you couldn’t get otherwise.”

The only thing I got out of that definitions was, she didn’t know what a Barbie party was either!  We are like minded. Besides the cake, her definition was right up there with minds.  I missed a fun party.

Mundy Madness / Fight the Battles You Can Win

Wonderers:

A few month ago I heard whispering in my sleep.  A conspiracy of sorts between my husband and 4 years old granddaughter.  “I’ll get you your own room real soon.  I promise.”  “Can it be pink?”, she said.  His response, “Whatever you want!”

Now there are two concerns going through my mind.  Where is this room coming from and why is it I’m the only one cleaning in this place and I don’t have my own room?

I thought I was taking over the office but the husband has claimed it for himself.  He is taking a 6 month certification class and feels the office is the only place he can study.  He bought himself a new desk and a new office chair to go along with it.  It looks pretty darn studious in there too.  He goes in there and shuts the door and studies until his heart is content.  Sometimes I swear I hear laughter coming from there and it is funny, I went to college at night for 6 years and I studied at the kitchen table with major interruptions.  But okay, fight the battles you can win!

So I know the only empty space is the spare bedroom.  The spare bedroom I’ve had my eyeon (after I lost the office that is) for my art studio.  It has morning light and a real nice size closet and it’s close to my bedroom.  Is this the space he is conspiring to give her?  Of course it is!  She isn’t even ready for her own room.  She sleeps in our bed every night as it is.  

The two of them were making plans.  She told me she was going to get a bunk bed.  We went to the furniture store. I’m was looking at full size beds, she’s looking at bunks.  Before I came to the conclusion the bed I was looking for was not at this store, the bunk bed had been purchased.  As we walked out the store she leaned over to me and said, “I told you so!”

Another explained plan, pop-pop was going to sleep on the bottom bunk and read stories to her every night.  Okay this could be promising!  If I lost my room for a open bed, well, that could work.  So I help paint the room pink and had a life time insured closet installed at pop-pop expense because after all, she might move out and it will be my room someday.  I’ll have to paint over the pepto bismo pink but Once again I conceded.  Fight the battles you can win!

The bunk was delivered.  The plan was executed between those two.  She won the prize!  I cleaned her room, moved all her clothes in there, decorated and spent all my mad money on making it fun for the two of them.  The first night was all set for the bunk mates.  I was popping pop-corn for them when something strange happened.  I was caught me off guard.  I didn’t know what to do.  I heard whispering.

“Mom-Mom can you sleep with me and read me a story?”

 Wonderers, I think I won?

Thanks for perusing and Good night.