I never identified with Barbie when I was younger. After all, she was blond and beautiful. I was the bland, mousy type. She was slender and  long-legged, and lived in a gorgeous dream house. I was definily the skinny kid, but short-legged and lived in a bunch of foster homes that might might have induced a few nightmare's. However, we're both turning 50 this month! Barbie reached it first (yea!), but I'm close behind at the end of the month.

Barbie has had so many different jobs, I'm pretty sure she's the spokeswoman for the National Association of Multiple Personality's. I've had a few different jobs, too, but the one she somehow missed was mother. She had a friend, Midge, and a niece, Skipper, that I remember. She and Ken never married and don't tell me they weren't sharing covers.

Don't you all agree that childless women don't age quite as fast? Barbie is my exhibit #1 in this premise. She still has flawless skin, bright eyes, and beautiful legs with no varicose veins. Of course, who knows about her hair, it was always bleached. Still, I never played with a Barbie in my life and I still can't relate. She may look better than me, but darnit, I've at least lived a little. I didn't pretend to work, I worked. I had those chidren and, yes, I may have a few more wrinkles because of it. Yes, I've had both joy and heartache in the process, but that's called life. 

So there, Barbie. I challenge you to grow up, get a life, adopt a child. Get involved with a children's organization; maybe as a foster mother. Do something productive of with your next 50 years!