Made of Plastic, It's Not Fantastic!

Molly threw me down half naked again before she scampered after that dumb dog in the hallway. Was it really so hard for her to slap a skirt on me before she ran away? That’s why all the clothes have Velcro, for crying out loud!

“Commando!” I shouted our code word once Molly disappeared. We tried to keep modesty in consideration at times like these.

“Again?” I heard Teresa groan. “That girl needs to stop half-assing it and finish the job!”

I shook my head, thankful Molly didn’t know Teresa had such a foul mouth. Everyone stayed frozen in their random spots on the floor while I searched for a skirt to finish my outfit. I didn’t care what skirt it was, I just needed something.

“Wear the skirt that I wore yesterday.” Midge suggested. “You know, the one with the pink belt?”

“I can’t find it.” I grumbled, digging in the giant pink plastic box of clothes. I saw a pair of Ken’s swim trunks and yanked on the Velcro. “Okay, I’m good.”

Teresa stood up first, stretching out her stiff arms. “Damn, she’s going to pull my arm out of its socket next time she bends me that way.”

Ken pointed at me with a questionable look. “Are those mine?”

Teresa, Midge, and Barbie all twisted their skinny little necks towards me. I actually preferred Ken’s swim trunks to any of the tight skirts that Molly hiked up my legs.

“Bobbi, what are you wearing?” Barbie held her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. Sure, my sequined midriff didn’t go with Ken’s Hawaiian surf trunks, but what did I care? “Molly’s only five and she has a better fashion sense than you.”

“Cool it, Barbie.” Midge defended me. “You aren’t the last one Molly decides to dress all the time.”

That’s right, I thought. Barbie’s always the first to gain Molly’s attention. Barbie and I always had a sort of rivalry. It wasn’t because we were the exact same doll (though that was a huge part of it) but Barbie was completely the opposite of me. She maintained all of her plastic beauty even when Molly was away for the weekend. I, on the other hand, could care less what I looked like.

My hair was only brushed when Molly did it for me. I only wore shoes when Molly put them on me. I even hated the name that was etched into my underwear, so I changed it the second Molly brought me home. Barbie was in better shape than I was, but it didn’t bother me. Molly always liked her better, anyway.

Everyone here agreed with me. I was by no means a Barbie girl. I couldn’t stand all of the pink and purple in that stupid Dream House. I wanted to use the magic markers to color the pink jeep blue, but Midge didn’t let me. She said it would upset Molly.

I loved Molly. How couldn’t I? She loved us all, but had that special place in her heart for Barbie just like every other little human girl. She played with all of us every day, and we were all so grateful.

“Molly?”

We all dropped motionless on the floor. I struggled to control my spastic breathing at the sound of his voice booming down the staircase. I listened for him to speak again.

His voice got closer. He was shouting down the stairs to his little sister. “Molly, where did you -- Ow! Dammit. Clean up your stupid toys!” I guessed that he stepped on the Dream Plane again. Molly always left it in the hallway when she made us dangle from the railing to let us sky dive.

The Dream Plane actually flew as he kicked it clear of Molly’s doorway. It was so close to landing on Teresa. I knew she would complain later.

“Tristan, don’t kick your sister’s things.” Molly’s mom said in her soft voice.

“She always leaves them lying around.”

“Then gently move them out of your way next time.”

“Whatever.” I heard his big feet march to his bedroom at the end of the hall. The door slammed over.

Molly’s mom sighed before she continued down the stairs.

“Holy Mother he almost killed me!” Teresa shouted.

“I didn’t know that thing had so much power!” Ken said.

“He’s a human teenage boy, Ken. Of course he has power.” Midge rolled her eyes at Ken’s lack of sensibility.

“No, I meant the plane. I’ve never seen it fly so high!”

“I’m a certified pilot, you know.” Barbie shimmied over to Ken. She drew little circles on his chest. “Maybe I can take you for a ride sometime.”

Teresa gagged. The look on her face made me laugh out loud. She was the only one that knew about me and my interest in Tristan.

You might be wondering why I’m not programmed to be attracted to Ken. I’ve seen Ken’s abs. They’re faker than the makeup tattooed to my face. But Tristan…his abs are real. I’ve seen them when he passes by Molly’s room on the way to and from the shower.

It’s not just about the abs. I’m not superficial like Barbie. Tristan’s different than Ken in so many ways, I’d be stupid to name them all. But, like his abs, Tristan is real. He lives a real life, not the happy-ending kind Molly puts us through every day. He has real problems, not the ones Molly makes up in her head.

And since I was stuck in a world of plastic and frilly gowns, a healthy dose of reality couldn‘t hurt me.