As a kid, I was a tomboy but that didn’t mean that I didn’t want the newest Barbie or the latest doll. I would get excited when the JC Penney Big Christmas catalog would arrive in the mail. I would spend hours going through the book and daydreaming about which Barbie I would get and what outfits she would wear. Granted, we didn’t have a lot of money so I knew that my daydreams were just that – dreams. But if I could get at least one of the Barbie’s I coveted, it would be a fantastic Christmas. Every year I would get a new Barbie and every year my bratty brother would break her. It got to the point where I had to hide my dolls from that little monster. My favorite doll that was destroyed by the little brother brat was my Bionic Woman doll. Back in the late 70s/early 80s, there weren’t that many lead, action female characters on TV so I was excited when I got that doll for Christmas. Besides Wonder Woman, the Bionic Woman was my hero. And my brother broke her beyond repair.
Growing up in the 80s, the must have Christmas gift for every girl was the Cabbage Patch doll. Like every kid, I wanted a Cabbage Patch doll but knew my chances of getting one were slim. My mom wasn’t the type of mom to go to every single store looking for one; or to beat people down and snatch one out of an unsuspecting mom’s hands. Thankfully my mom had a hook-up at the local Wal-Mart and I on Christmas Day, Olga (my Cabbage Patch’s name) joined the family. I loved that she was a black Cabbage Patch (because I’d never had a black doll before) and she smelled so good. She was one of the best Christmas presents ever and I still have her, some 30 years later. And she still smells like baby powder.
Besides dolls, getting a new bike for Christmas was always a big deal. When I was 9, I wanted the Pink Panther Bike like nobody’s business. At the time, my friends had the pink Huffy with the cushiony seat. But I being the rebel that I am had my eyes set on Pink Panther with the banana seat. Whenever we’d go to Sears, I would pay a visit to “my” bike. I’d imagine myself sitting on it, riding it around the neighborhood. And when I saw it sitting in the living room one Christmas morning, I screamed like I’d just won the lottery. Pink Panther and I had some great times. Thanks to Pink Panther I continually scarred up my knees and elbows trying to ride hard like the neighborhood boys.
Even though we didn’t get much for Christmas, my parents always managed to give us the items that we really wanted. All of my Christmases were great and filled with wonderful memories.
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