I am half way into Cinderella Ate My Daughter by Peggy Orenstein and I get to see the most amazing thing in the morning. A beheaded Barbie!
Avni is showered with dolls ever since she is born. Whoever comes to visit her, brings a Barbie or a soft-toy. I have made my own contribution to the doll collection, when the guilt trip of being a working mom creeps in my head!
Yeah! that’s true, <confession>I spend money on her and temporarily come out of the guilt</confession>.
Well, most of the dolls lie down on the sofa whole day waiting for baby to pick them up and pay them some attention. Today one of them find its way to her play area and ends up like this!
The inner Peggy Orenstein in me was jumping up and down with joy seeing the obvious symbolic destruction of stereotyped rules.
Yeah! My baby does not play much with the dolls, she is interested in violence and….Yeah!
Your true-blue-feminist Amma is proud of you baby! Way to go!
“Do not know why she is having Naxal tendencies!” – My husband exclaimed in his obviously-disappointed tone and that brought me back to earth from my airheaded jubilation.
On an afterthought, who cares!
She is just one and a half year old and is still has not forayed into the so called Social Life. So before the preconceived notions and stereotypes surge in through the window, Let me enjoy these moments of bliss and let me proudly say
My baby ate the Barbie or more like My baby beheaded the Barbie.