June 30, 2005

family matters

A long, long time ago, I was this doll’s mommy. baby

Baby Alive was battery-powered, and came with a bottle, some powdered food, and a bib. I could mix up the food and feed her, as her lifelike mouth mimicked savoring my excellent recipes. Eventually the food traveled through her “digestive tract” to end up in her diaper. Then I got to change her. Oh, how I loved my sweet Baby Alive.

I still remember the jingle from the commercial:
“Baby Alive,
Soft and sweet.
She can drink,
She can eat.”
(Why do I remember this random crap?)

Then, one weekend while I was on an Indian Princess campout with my dad, tragedy struck my sweet plastic child. My little sister decided to play with my Baby Alive and being young and not yet mommy material, she didn’t know how to make the food. To this day, I can only guess what must have happened: she poured the unmixed powdered food into the baby’s piehole, and then fed her her bottle of water, clogging my poor Baby Alive’s system. When I came home, my mom informed my of my doll’s demise from an accidental cacka overdose.

The moral of this story is:
I need to get over it already.

roominate on this yourself