As our daughter nears 8, I can safely say we have dodged the Barbie bullet. Nor is there any evidence in our home of the existence of Smurfs. There was only one more line of toys I hoped to avoid and that was My Little Pony. As an uncle, I was forced to spend way too many hours with all three of these brands and I wanted nothing to do with them as a parent. Alas, my luck ran out on the ponies.
For over a year, girl-child had a been full of second-hand My Little Ponies that she rarely touched; they simply didn’t interest her. I took this as a good sign. Perhaps the unwanted toys were like a vaccination against them. But sometime last summer, she started grooming them in the bathroom sink with her friends. That’s when I knew we were doomed. Our world exploded in "ponydom" with books, videos, music, blankets, PJs and more.
Worse than all the horsing around in the past, I was recruited as a gaming consultant and now I assist her in the mundane tasks on her iPad app. I suppose this makes me an unwitting "brony" (male fans of My Little Pony).
Naturally, her brothers have picked up on the My Little Pony action and I frequently hear them running through the home declaring they are Applejack and Rainbow Dash. It could be worse; at least they are not pretending to be Sorority Barbie and Goth Barbie. Not yet anyway.
Photos: Lisa Brewster
