I think I’m a decent aunt. Not so good at remembering birthdays, admittedly, but what I lack in presents-giving, I make up for in lots of facetime. We play all kinds of games — usually “doctor,” in which I pretend to have some terrible malady wrought by a zoo animal (“Help! A hippopotamus bit my leg off!”) and they wrap toilet paper (“bandages”) around me pretending to fix it. Either we do that, or we play Barbies.
Usually my nieces’ Barbie dolls are going to a ball to meet a prince. It doesn’t matter if she’s Color-Change Mermaid Barbie or I Can Be USA President Barbie. She is always going to a ball to meet a prince. Sometimes directly after the ball, she and the prince get married. So, last weekend when I was babysitting, I tried to set the tone for something different. Keep reading »
For the past three years, photographer Lindsay Morris has been following a group of special kids who attend an annual four-day camp for “gender-nonconforming boys and their parents.” In order to protect the boys and their families, Morris simply refers to the camp as Camp You Are You, and explains it as a place where these boys “don’t have to look over their shoulders, and they can let down their guard. Those are four days when none of that matters, and they are surrounded by family members who support them.” Keep reading »
Mattel’s Barbie doll has long embodied all that is wrong with society’s expectations of women and the female body. But there’s good news, sort of: the impossibly shaped, blonde doll’s popularity appears to finally be waning. Mattel has reported a 23 percent drop in sales and sales have declined for the fourth quarter in a row. To be fair, toy sales the U.S. and Europe have not been faring particularly well this year in general, and Mattel is doing relatively well compared to other large toy companies. But this is no thanks to Barbie — most of their sales come from the American Girl Dolls and Monster High Dolls. Keep reading »
This past weekend, Amelia, Jessica and I went to our awesome marketing manager Sophie’s wedding in Maine. It was so much fun. And so much lobster. (Maine!) There were a bunch of ridiculously cute flower girls there, frolicking on the grass, running around, falling down, dancing, crying, accidentally showing everyone their underwear and generally having a lot of fun. And it was on our way from the ceremony to the reception that it struck us: those little girls are not unlike us when we get drunk. This theory was tested 15 minutes later — thanks to the open bar — when Amelia and I attempted to get the dance party started with these cute kids. They, and us, it seemed, were the only ones willing to make total fools of ourselves (as per the usual).
With that in mind, we thought up a bunch of ways that drunk adult women are sort of totally like 4-year-olds. And there are a lot of ways, trust us. Check out our list after the jump, and share your own theories in the comments. Keep reading »
Last weekend, families across the country gathered for hot dogs, fireworks, American flags, and clouds of bug spray. So much bug spray. My family was no different: we had our annual party at my sister’s house. But our party was better this year: we had a kiddie pool and a bucket filled with squirt guns. As the Fun Aunt (read: the only one with no children, which means I have surplus energy to run around the yard with the little monsters), I quickly armed myself and sneak-attacked some kiddos with a spray of water to the face. We ducked behind bushes and trees, shrieking with glee and, honestly, relief at a the cool bursts of water on a 90-degree suburban day.
But as we dodged and weaved and got wet, something occurred to me. I was playing with a gun. A toy gun, sure. But I was playing with a toy gun with kids. Keep reading »
Judging by her sweet face, polka dot dress, and pink tights, most people expected six-year-old “America’s Got Talent” contestant Aaralyn to sing a cute version of “Animal Crackers In My Soup,” but that’s not Aaralyn’s music style of choice. When she took the stage, backed by her nine-year-old brother Izzy on the drums, something totally unexpected — and totally awesome — came out of her mouth: an original screamo song called “Zombie Skin.” Just push play, OK? You won’t regret it. [YouTube]