Back in the day I had three delightful little girls who loved pink and purple and twirly skirts. Into their lives came a little brother who changed Barbies’ nice little town into one of dinosaurs lurking around every corner. They all grew up. Tastes have refined, but in some respects things haven’t changed all that much.

“I think they need a little grunge.”

We were walking amidst the greatest mess I’ve ever seen in Walmart. Truly. It was like walking down Bourban Street during Mardis Gras. It was December 23rd. I was just there as a support person for my son who thus far in his life is following the stereotypical man plan of Christmas shopping at the last minute.

Grunge wasn’t his first choice, but that choice was impossible to manage here in the place of the great unwashed with its low price guarantee. I suggested and he considered leggings in wild colors, and we sorted through them (why do things come in every size but the one you need?). I could kind of see it, though in my heart of hearts had to acknowledge it might be a stretch for the three sisters for whom he shopped. We trudged out of the store shortly thereafter.

On to the next place. Thank heavens there are only half a million stores in the city. He was resolute about his choice of gift. He knew exactly what he was looking for. I could hardly question it. After all, what do I know? I was giving socks and epsom salts to relatives.

And then, what to my wondering eyes should appear . . . not a miracle, but a sweet surprise. On Christmas this year graphic tees were unwrapped and immediately and delightedly donned. Truly delightedly.johnny-cash-shirt-httpswww-google-comsearchsiteimghptbmischqjohnny%20cash%20shirttbssurfmc

So if you see a young woman who usually looks fairly put together walking around in a Red Hot Chili Peppers graphic tee, just remember she has a brother who gave her the perfect present. Take that, Barbie.




I'd love to hear from you!