From now on, when my father knocks on my door, I'm not going to answer it. First it was the legless people. Last night, it was this:
Tubs and tubs of Barbie shit. All brought up from the dark recesses of his water damaged basement. Corvettes and hot tubs, McDonald's and make-up counters. Vans, horses, dogs and cats.
Barbie had it all, thanks to my grandmother. She took great pleasure in spending her miserly husband's money behind his back. Nothing beats stealth missions with Grannie to buy Barbie a new wicker furniture set. We were bad.
Of course, when Junior saw all the bright sparkly stuff, he got excited and wanted to play with it. So I dusted the dolls off and let him have at it.
He had a blast.
That made Chuck kind of twitchy.
"Should he...um...be...playing with those things?" he asked.
"Because they're...um...you know...so pink and girly."
His comment made me laugh. I think it's pretty normal for a father to be concerned with his son's masculinity, but to think that playing with a certain kind of toy could affect a child's sexual orientation is preposterous.
Still, I was curious what the world thought, so I googled "Does playing with dolls make boys gay?"
And how! According to "Boys Who Play with Dolls": "Studies have shown...that a desire to play with the 'ol gal [Barbie] might be an early sign of a boy's already determined sexual orientation. Robert Green, in his book The Sissy Boy Syndrome: The Development of Male Homosexuality, found that little boys who played with dolls were, in fact, more likely to grow up gay."
Holy shit. Chuck was on to something. Could Junior be mere seconds away from becoming Junior-ette? I clicked onward and ended up at the Landover Baptist Church. According to them, A parent can never act too soon in taking precautionary measures to ensure that their child will never become intoxicated with mommy's perfume and choose to devote his life to being a prancing homo.
They've even got Handy Homo Prevention advice right on their website.
[coming up for air] Wow. Just wow.
Some days, the world scares me. And not in the Oh, I'll just have a glass of wine and forget about what I read/saw/overheard kind of way. Rather, in the Who am I sharing the planet with, please protect me, Chuck? kind of way.
Thank God Chuck's all man. All stay-at-home-dad, apron wearing, spatula toting, wipe master, er, man.
* Pink wasn't considered a "girl's" color until the 1940s. Before that, it was actually considered a "boy's" color because it was related to red, and at the time, red was thought to be more masculine.