When I were a lad …

We donated to the Thin Ice KickStarter campaign recently and I’m thrilled to say that they reached their goal and the project is going ahead. Read more here:


Barbie has been in the news recently. Apparently there’s a dreadful book called “Barbie, I can be a computer engineer”. It sounds promising but a quick read of Barbie Fucks it up again reveals that it’s not quite as good as it sounds.

Speaking of Barbie, I saw this lovely video of school children reacting to a new and more realistic version called Lammily. The kids seem to relate to her and they like that she looks realistic, she’s smiling and that she’s not standing on tippy-toe. Kids are awesome.

My kids have never been into dolls. We have some Barbies – vintage ones. They were acquired from a garage sale in Brisbane some years ago and they came with lovely home-made clothes. But they’re never played with except by visiting children to our house. Elizabeth prefers playing with leaves and sticks from the backyard and the odd cockroach. Daniel likes his Creeper and crocheted Enderman.

Kids have too many toys these days. One of my pet hates is when women complain that they were forced to play with girls’ toys when they were little and when they played with trains or cars or dinosaurs, they were considered strange or even thought of as outcasts. My heart bleeds. This really is a first-world problem. Perhaps I’m not sympathetic because I never had any girls’ toys as a child. We had a train set and that was pretty much it for quite a long time. And a train set was a luxury. Kids who have toys at all are lucky. When I was a girl I was forced to play with boys’ toys and nothing else and if I complained I was beaten 100 times with a stick ….. just kidding 🙂 Here’s the reference if you don’t get it –

Yes, I’m aware that petty whinging about pettiness is a bit ironic. Call it second-order pettiness if you will.

16 responses to “When I were a lad …”

  1. Brings back memories of Christmas when my sister and I got dolls. I don’t know how old I was …. maybe 4 or so. I was so crushed. My doll didn’t have real hair. Just that painted on stuff. My sister’s doll had this fuzzy little hair and was called Sweetie Pie. 😦 I don’t think mine even had a name. Some things you never get over.
    My daughter did have Barbies. I finally packed up all her doll stuff and moved it out of my closets. lol.

    • I can remember going for a holiday to Mooloolaba once as a kid and after a dip in the pool, walked up the stairs back to our apartment. But I accidentally went into the wrong one – they all looked the same – and discovered a pile of barbies on the living room floor. I was so excited and immediately started playing with them. As I was playing I got this odd sense that things looked different. Then I looked around the apartment and eventually realised I was in the wrong one! I hightailed it out of there before anyone saw me.

  2. That such realistic dolls are not on the market proofs that the above video is fake. Would anyone dare to claim that all private company producing dolls would make such a mistake? Only communists would claim such.

    Was that a good William M Connelley imitation? 🙂

  3. an undred times with a stick, that’s nuthin. When aye wer a lad we were forced to take tap dancing lessons. Aye, and if you fell in the sink you’d get yer bilfors scroggled. 😛

  4. I just realised there was a major typo in my post too. I said “One of my pet hates is when women complain that they were forced to play with boys’ toys …”, when I meant to say “One of my pet hates is when women complain that they were forced to play with girls’ toys …”. I’ve fixed it! It doesn’t make sense otherwise. I was whinging about women who whinge that they weren’t allowed to play with boys’ toys and instead had girls’ toys forcibly shoved down their throat. My response to this is big whoop. Find some sticks, stones, and leaves to play with instead.

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