One of my favorite past-times as a kid involved the Barbie Van. It was a giant yellow van that was passed down from 2 generations of barbie lovers in my family. Sure, Barbie and her lady friends (and the one ken doll we had) would:
+ frolic in the roof-top pool (shoe box/water spray bottle for effect)
+ go on camping trips (outside under a bush)
+ drive across the country (from the bedroom to the livingroom)
+ party inside the van (turn MTV up really loud)
+ go to the drive-in (place ken on top of barbie in back of van and make smooching noises)
But the real fun came when we involved the cats.
It was a two-person operation. My sister would load the cats while I would prepare for take-off. We had a generously long hallway, one end at which the launch pad rested. As soon as cat #2 was loaded I was off. Tripping over my long nightgown, weak with belly laughs, off went the cats. In the Barbie van. We would fall to the ground in fits of laughter as the van crashed into the wall at the end of the hallway. Then they slide to the front of the van like it was a slip 'n' slide. Both cats would scatter, leaping into the air like cheetahs. We got talented at removing them from under the beds. The key was lifting the pads under the claws and swiftly pulling before they latched into the carpet once again.
....So if you look closely at my childhood pictures, you will see long red scratches along arms, face, and hands.
not my pic
