I mean seriously.  Aside from her pin straight brown hair (which is just like her father’s) and biting sarcasm, we really have little in common.  At least not when it comes to being little girls.

Growing up, I only had an older brother.  So deflecting WWE body slams and figure-fours was a matter of survival.

I hiked up his hand-me-down blue striped tube socks, and along with my unisex bowl cut and only-Asian girl status,  kids at school were not nice.  Good thing I knew how to pin someone down for a 10 second count.

Anyhow, my daughter could not be more different.  She is well versed in every Disney Princess story, along with each one’s full dress attire. Her bedroom and closet resembles the inside of a bottle of Pepto Bismol.  And every time a Barbie commercial or ad crosses her eyes, she suddenly folds her hands behind her back, tilts her head and says, “Mommy, I just LOVE Barbie! Can I have one?”

HELL to the NO.  At least that’s my immediate response inside my head.  But the answer is indeed always “no.”

Personally, I do not like Barbie.  At her age, I used to swing her by her luscious blond hair and turn her into an enemy helicopter attacking GI Joes.

I put her on the same tier as Bratz dolls. Both wear way too much make up, and do not set a great example for little girls.  I’m not crazy about the Disney Princesses either, but I can only do so much consumer deflecting.

But Barbie takes the cake. Especially now that they’ve decided she needs a redesign because her ankles are too fat.

Barbie has cankles?  Really? Does anyone actually notice anything besides her gargantuan hair and rack?

If this is an issue, how come Dora’s head is bigger than her entire body?

Anyhow, my daughter will not be receiving a Barbie from Santa. She will however, be receiving a baby doll that she has been eying for several weeks now.

I read that offering an older sibling a baby doll can help ease the transition of having a new baby at home.

Isn’t she cute?  Sure she has blue eyes and blond hair and looks nothing like anyone in our family, but who cares.  I’ve grown used to the nanny question, and I have all of my “I’m not the help” comebacks ready to go.

I managed to score her for 50% off on Amazon after Thanksgiving.

Only there is one caveat…

“Pee or poop?”

Awesome.

My daughter will soon appreciate the joys of diaper surprise, or she will become a master diaper changer by the age of five.

Win-Win.

At least the word “vomit” or “explosive” wasn’t included on the packaging.  That must be the more expensive line.

Dadisodes is going to love that our diaper bill just doubled.

Perhaps the plastic, bastard child will have to suffer from bouts of starvation from time to time.

At least it won’t grow up to have cankles.