Every young lady likes to get down with a game of Barbies. I spent many a day playing puppet master to the blonde bombshell. Teacher Barbie, Mom Barbie, sister Barbie, friend Barbie, etc. But there comes a time in every young lady’s life when the wholesome fun gets old and boring. That’s when Ken comes into the picture. And incidentally his clothes come off.
My best friend growing up, Chiara, and I had our fair stint of shenanigans early in life. Vandalizing tree houses, getting in fist fights, rollerblading around town with our rollerblading gang – it was a good time. When we weren’t reeking havoc in our town, we were quietly playing dolls.
One time, after Barbie had a particularly stressful day, Ken came home from work and tried to help her relax. It started with an innocent back massage but, as I would later find out, massages lead to one thing and one thing alone. A make-out.
First Barbie slipped off one of her spaghetti straps, then Ken took off his shirt (because how else do you administer a massage, if not shirtless). One thing led to another and the next thing I knew, they were chillin’ in their birfday suits.
That’s when my mom walked in and caught Ken with his pants around his ankles.
“Girls! What are you doing?!”
I mean, technically, we weren’t doing anything. It was Barbie who was acting inappropriate… I seem to recall our doll-play becoming slightly more supervised after that incident. Oh, the shame.
haha that funny. i used to do the same. and then i would cut their hair and rip their heads off and draw on their faces. silly kids.