Jack and I were building Lincoln Log houses tonight until a dinosaur destroyed the stable and ate the horse alive - again and again. Jack squealed with delight as his plastic dinosaur growled and slobbered (well, if plastic could slobber, this dino would have) over the tiny Lincoln Log horse. Almost incoherent with giggling, my boy would say, "You be the horse, Mama! You be the horse!" Over and over, my little horse would run away from the evil dinosaur only to be caught and devoured.
In the middle of the carnage, I realized that if Amelia and I were playing together, she'd be forcing me to be Ken, the constantly nagged, put-upon husband/boyfriend. (Please God, I hope she's not modeling this on my relationship with Ray. Please.) Sometimes I'm also the "Grandma Barbie" or the babysitter.
If you get right down to it, whatever the kids are playing, I'm getting the worst of it. But you know what, I love it. I really, really do, and not because Barbie's going to banish me to the junkyard (no kidding, this has happened to Ken before) or because I'm going to be eaten alive by a dinosaur.