Last Christmas, Santa brought my daughter the new and fabulous Barbie Dream House. A far cry from the one my back yard neighbor had, but the excitement was comparable.
Not only does the 2013 version have a working elevator and doorbell, it has so many new features from when I was playing with everything pink and plastic.
The kitchen has a recycling bin, a blender that makes noise and an oven light. I remember my friends having a stove, fridge and sink and we were lucky if the doors stayed on.
The TV that is in the living room can change back and forth from two channels. Right now it is a manual change, but I foresee Mattel going to a remote version in the near future.
Apparently, having one elevator in your home is just above poverty level because Barbie classed it up and has a closet elevator. You don’t know what that is? Oh, you silly, silly monkey! It’s a secret elevator that takes your clothes from your closet down to the bathroom. Barbie always puts her dirty clothes back on the elevator to return to the closet, but Ken never seems to do this.
The most idyllic place in the Dream Home is the bathroom. Barbie’s pink toilet makes a flushing noise, a hair dryer makes such a realistic noise you could be fooled the kids are playing with yours, and each time Barbie is in the shower her voice can be heard singing like a crazed fool.
The only thing missing is a bidet where water would shoot up Barbie’s tush and then blow it nice and dry. However, I’m glad the Dream Home isn’t hooked up to water yet. A few years back our Barbie had an unfortunate water accident. It was tragic!
So I got to thinking, when I was seven what did I think was a dream house? What amenities would my grownup house have? I’m fairly certain I wanted more than one bathroom, a library with floor to ceiling bookshelves covering every inch of wall surface, and a recording studio.
When I was in college living in apartments, my dreams had changed substantially and all I wanted was a working icemaker in the refrigerator, a garage with an opener and to live on a beach in Florida.
The home I live in now, doesn’t have a hand-painted Etsy entry way sign, saying I found my dream home in Fort Lauderdale. Nope. I am nowhere near an ocean, but my Midwestern home is comfortable for a family of four and has 3 ½ baths!!
I would have thought my house was a castle when I was a child. Even though there is no elevator, no library, nor recording studio.
But my kids’ bookshelves, which are tethered to the walls so the kids won’t climb on them and be crushed when they topple over, are brimming with wonderful stories. The absence of an elevator, leaves a beautiful staircase that I can decorate with pine boughs and lights at Christmas and place stuffed animal bunnies on each stair for Easter. And the recording studio is much better served as a room with a piano, our guitars and comfy chairs to sit in and enjoy each other’s music.
What has made my house a Dream House? My family.