...were staring at me again in the shower today, their heads twisted well past "yoga" and heading towards "YA TV horror movie."
They had their final bathtime playdate with my daughter some time ago. She stuck them up here on the rail for their hair to drip dry, then never came back for them.
Every day they watch me, their unblinking eyes empty of judgment or approval. They keep me company in the one place where I am supposed to be most alone.
Do they remember being queens and river-jumpers and butterflies? Champion swimmers, unicorn runners, ballerinas, the souls of nighttime stars, and--most exotic and wondrous of all--high school students?
Once they were dreams.
Now they're reminders of dreams.
For me too.
Hmmm...have I just written a defense of the Barbie doll?
If I have, then good.
