Then, I realized that this 5-year-old would not be the only 5-year-old at the party. But, it was too late. I'd already accepted.
Anyway, the party is this weekend, so I don't have any great stories about me hanging out with a bunch of 5-year-olds, yet. But, let's not get ahead of ourselves. First order of business: buy a present.
I decided I better ask the parents of the 5-year-old what she might want for her birthday. This isn't like one of my adult friends where I can just get them a gift certificate, or an ironic t-shirt, or booze. I considered not getting anything for the 5-year-old at all but quickly dismissed that by trying to remember what it would have been like if I was 5 years old and some dude I barely new came to my birthday party and didn't even bother to get me a present. It would have sucked.
The parents listed a few things for me. The only thing out of the list I recognized was a Barbie. That didn't sound very exciting, so I asked some of my co-workers who have kids. They suggested some place where you build your own teddy bear. I know, I don't get it either. Apparently you get a gift certificate for the kid, then the kid goes and builds a teddy bear. Again, I tried to remember what it would have been like if I was 5 years old and someone handed me a piece of paper as a gift. Again, it would have sucked.
I tried to think of things I know about the 5-year-old in question from first hand experience. I know she likes to put things in little containers. According to her mom, she has all kinds of little boxes, purses, etc, all filled with little trinkets and charms. As I witnessed at the dinner table, this particular 5-year-old likes to open these boxes, purses, etc, and empty them of their contents, before returning each item back into the container in question.
So, I thought, why not get her a little container, or a series of little containers? But, again, I ran that by my inner 5-year-old and realized getting a container for my birthday would have sucked. In fact, I remember I got some tupperware for my 15th birthday and it was pretty depressing.
Back to Barbie. But what do I do, I wondered? Just walk into a store, go straight to the girls' toy aisle, and browse Barbies? How weird. I feel creepy even looking at the boys' section of the toy department, these days, which is too bad, since it's fun to look at all the Transformers, Star Wars, Star Trek and Indiana Jones figures that kick the asses of all the dumb toys I had when I was a kid. As long as no one is in the aisle, I'm cool, but as soon as someone rounds the corner, I instantly have to move on, as if I accidentally stumbled into the wrong aisle while looking for something a normal, mature adult would be looking for. Like dish soap.
I decided the best thing to do would be to recruit a female friend to not only help me pick out a good Barbie, but also to make me look more normal browsing the girls' toy aisle. I feel for single fathers. I bet they get weird looks all the time.
I asked Kaite if she'd go with me, and she was pretty excited about it. We went to Fred Meyer and went straight to the toy section. There was a whole aisle full of Barbies and other dolls. Appropriately, Debbie Gibson music floated out of the PA as we browsed.
At first all the Barbies looked the same to me. But upon closer inspection I saw that there were many varieties. Princesses, dog groomers, evening gowns, even Ken dressed as a French musketeer with a word bubble coming out of his mouth inexplicably stating, "I want to be an inventor." I saw a Barbie bathroom, playset, too, but remembered that the 5-year-old in question HATES bath time, so I decided against it.
One Barbie was particularly disturbing. She was some kind of tattoo artist who came with all kinds of stick-on tattoos. Gazing at her in disbelief, I wondered why she hadn't been on the evening news yet. "This just in: Mattel wants your kids to get tattoos." Then again, maybe it was on the news. Who knows. I decided this was just a sign that 12 year olds are having kids, because only a teenage mother would buy her kid Tattoo Barbie. Right? I looked for a body piercing Barbie but didn't see one.
Kaite explained the various selling points to me, pointing out the accessories each Barbie came with and whether or not it was a lot of value for the price. Important things I never would have considered, like:
-- Does the Barbie come with one outfit or two?
-- How many tiaras and hair brushes does she have?
We also looked at Polly Pocket, My Little Pony, and a robotic baby that I'm pretty sure I overheard farting. And, while I had company, I took advantage of the situation to browse the boys' action figures as well. As usual, way more awesome than the ones I used to have as a kid. Sigh.
We settled on one of the first Barbies we looked at, a brunette in a fancy green and gold sparkling ball gown, on her way to a masquerade ball, and called it a day. Here's a picture of her dwarfing Han Solo:
(Sorry about the flash.)
Next hurdle: buying girly wrapping paper. Lately I've been wrapping things in used paper QFC bags, but I used the "What would I think if I was 5?" trick again, and realized no 5-year-old should get anything in a brown paper wrapper, no matter what Julie Andrews sings. My first thought was that it would suck to buy girly wrapping paper, use it for one present, and then be stuck with a big roll of it that I'm never going to use.
Then I remembered I could just wrap everything in it and it would be hilarious. So, that made me feel better.
The last time I bought a Barbie was when I was around 6 years old. It was Peaches And Cream Barbie, for my sister's birthday. The gift was well received. Hopefully this one will be, too, but you never know with 5-year-olds.
Incidentally, I'm banking on her not being a huge blog reader.
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