When Uncles are left to babysit, Happy Meal boxes end up on heads, pajamas get put on at noon, and Barbies get gleefully beheaded. As a kid, I only got to play with Barbie dolls when I went over to Suzie’s house to visit – and I loved it, but not enough to request a Barbie of my own. (There were lines even I knew not to cross at such a young age.)
There are, happily, less stringent gender roles today, so both niece and nephew are free to dissemble dolls and action characters with equal relish. Warning: what you are about to see is, at times, brutal. Graphic depictions of Barbie beheadings will follow. Proceed with caution. (And add it to the NSFW status some folks seem hell-bent on assigning to this website.)
