BARBIE DOESN’T GO THERE
“WHAT IS THAT??”
The look on Vin’s face was absolutely terrifying. I follow his pointed out finger shrug my shoulders and ask, “What?” before nonchalantly returning to the pile of unfolded laundry on the bed.
“That!!!!!” he says wagging his finger at the top of his dresser.
I look up again.
“That would be a Barbie,” I sigh as I fold a t-shirt.
“Yes, I know it is a Barbie, Bridzilla Barbie from the looks of it.”
“It doesn’t say that on the box,” I smile.
“Yes… but fine… whatever it is a Barbie,” his face is turning red and that little vain above his eye is pulsing slightly. “It’s…. a…… Barbie….”
“Yes Vin it is a Barbie.”
“But what it is it doing there?” finger still waving at the black box with the mini white bride on the inside. “That’s-a MY DRESSER. You see that? My dresser!!! You see on my dresser there is a globe, and a Rhino and a picture of me and you. That’s my dresser…. BARBIE DOESN’T GO THERE!!!”
Now I think she looks very nice there. But apparently that emasculates him, having a Barbie on his dresser…. So where Barbie shall live I am not sure. He says anywhere is fine…. Anywhere other then HIS DRESSER.