Tyrannosaurus Rex Arms

I used to think that my inability to touch my toes in gym class had to do with flexiblity.  Or lack thereof.  True, I'm inflexible, but the underlying issue is my TRA.  Tyrannosaurus Rex arms.

Linda has just the opposite problem: gorilla arms.  She can scratch her ankle without bending her knees.

I became aware of this contrast when the girls were in school and had to abide by a dress code requiring their skirts to be no shorter than their fingertips.

As a result, Linda dressed like a Puritan, whereas I would be allowed to go to Middle School dressed like a street walker. 

Even with TRA I've always been able to scratch my back.  But now that I've torn my Rotator Cuff?  Impossible.

Which puts me in the market for a Back Scratcher.  I started my search on Amazon.  

I ask.  Why should cats have more options for scratching their backs than I?

Not to mention the fact that all the "people" Back Scratchers were boring.  Certainly no Barbie Back Scratchers to be found.

I decided to make my own.

I assembled four contestants for my Barbie Back Scratch Pageant Contest.

It's a little known fact that Barbie feet make excellent Back Scratchers. Unfortunately, Handicapped Barbie was quickly eliminated, since she has no feet.

Then there were three.

Pooper Scooper Barbie refused to remove her shoes so I gave her the boot.

Then there were two: Makeover Barbie  and Barbie with the Reattached Head that won't go all the way on.

I held a Back Scratch Off and it was no contest.

(Let's just say that Pooper Scooper Barbie should get a job at the Food Lion spa.)

Barbie with the Reattached Head has earned the position of Nerdling Back Scratcher.  

And it's a good thing she uses her feet.

Because her arms are really short.

Barbie's Makeover

Barbie’s been pouting for weeks.  Ever since that Ice Bucket Challenge.  Apparently, she thinks I messed up her hair.

Just because it had a few leaves in it.  And dirt.  And blades of grass.

For the record, there was absolutely no dog poop present.

I was so sick of all that whining that I decided to give Barbie a makeover at the Nerdling Hair Salon.  (That's how considerate I am.)

Don’t worry, Barbie.  I’m a gifted hair stylist.

I shampooed her hair, successfully removing all yard debris.  I then applied fabric softener to make her hair silky.

After combing and blow-drying Barbie's hair, I decided that it was just too stinkin’ long.  As Al Gore once said, "You should never be able to sit on your own hair."

  
So I got out my scissors and went to work.  I used all kinds of interesting angles and styling strategies.  I call this the "RPM" (Retro-Punk-Mullett):

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And I think she looks beautiful. 

Except that blond is so unoriginal.  Barbie needed some highlights.  I went to Food Lion for some Kool-Aid.

It brings tears to my eyes.

For some reason Barbie was not at all happy with her new do.  And I’m getting sick of her attitude.   I feel very unappreciated. 

I think I’ll get started on my next project.

Training Taffy

I shouldn't have been so surprised.  Mattel has had their share of crash and burn Barbie's over the years.

Who could forget Anorexic Slumber Party Barbie, complete with diet book and scale set at 110 pounds?  

Then there was Pregnant Midge.  Seriously?

And, of course, RollerBlade Barbie, whose roller blades could set fire to underwear doused with hairspray.

But I had great expectations for Barbie Potty Training Taffy.  I envisioned hours of fun feeding adorable Taffy and cleaning up his poop with Barbie's pink pooper-scooper.

In fact, I could hardly wait to start playing!  I fed Taffy and, sure enough he had to go potty.   (I could just tell.)   I put the 5 pieces of poo into the slot in his "back pack", pushed down his tail and out came 5 pieces of poo.  Just like magic!

So I picked up the poo with the pooper-scooper and was about to drop it into the blue plastic trash can when I noticed the omission. 

Barbie's trash can had no liner.

Euuuuuuuu!  I would never put poo into a trash can without a liner.  

Especially in August. 

In South Carolina.

So I made a Barbie Potty Training Taffy trash can liner. 

Now, any ordinary Marketing genius would have stopped there.  But I'm no ordinary Marketing Genius.

And, since imitation is a form of flattery, I kind of borrowed an idea.

Introducing the Barbie Potty Training Taffy PooTrap.

No Poops!  No Oops!

I know what you're thinking.  I couldn't agree more.

Mattel needs to put me on their payroll.

Ahead of the Curve

It's almost enough to make me want to have another baby.

Um, Dave.   You can step away from that ledge.  I was just kidding.  

And at the risk of stating the obvious, I really don't thing that volume knob will be very effective.  Based on my extensive experience (with very loud children), a pacifer needs an on-off (in-out) switch.

At any rate, where were these extraordinary pacifiers when my girls were little?

Oh, how I would have loved to proudly parade Kimmy and Linda around the mall with one of these in their mouths. 

In fact, I may have been tempted to sport one myself!  (You know how adorable those mother-daugher outfits are.)

  

Although these pacifiers are very impressive and fashion forward (especially the pig snout and dinosaur), there is something conspicuously missing from the pacifier prospectus.  

They forgot Barbie!  

However, I happened to have an extra Barbie head left over from my Barbie Head Earring project, so I was able to fill that product void.  

You're welcome.

Introducing the Barbie Head Pacifier!  Since I didn't have a baby handy, Kevin agreed to model:

  
I even have a tag line:  You are never too young for Barbie. 

But before I began mass-producing my Barbie Head Pacifiers, due diligence was in order.  (I didn't want any of those blood-hungry lawyers on my butt.)

So I googled "Barbie Pacifier".  And, much to my chagrin, there is already a Barbie Pacifier on the market.  

Selling for $36.95. 

Seriously?   

OKAY, so maybe the Barbie Pacifier idea was taken.  But the wheels on my brain go round and round...round and round...round and round.   

Just like the Nerdling Barbie Head Mobile!

 

Imagine falling asleep to that every night!  

Now all I need is a song.  I'm thinking the Multicollinearity Rap would be perfect.  Because, you are never too young for Barbie.  

Or statistics.