Don’t you just hate it when people give your kid stuff you don’t want your kid to have? Well-meaning friends and relatives may offer your daughter some soda, candy, or other treat, not realizing they’d already had a fudge pop that day, which is your rule—and of course, when your rule is broken by another adult, it simply declines in value and becomes much easier to break.

The same goes with toys. You ask people not to bring your child any stuffed animals because she already has over 70—literally!—and yet every time they visit they tote something along for her until she ultimately starts asking everyone and their twin brother, “What you got for me?” as soon as she sees them or even hears their voices on the phone! Despite your best intentions, The Spoiled Brat Complex settles in quite comfortably into its new host—your child.

And what about Barbie? Many mothers are adamantly against the Barbie doll and ask that their daughters not receive them as gifts; in fact, I know mothers who promptly donate new Barbie “gifts” to either Goodwill, a neighbor, or simply the trash dump. I would consider myself among them, but there are some gray areas.

One is gifts that come from loved ones you are close to. It’s one thing when long lost Aunt Mildred sends a Barbie from afar, having never even seen your kid; you can cheerfully swap it without anyone knowing the difference. But when Grandma buys her one—knowing you don’t approve, even calling to warn you, “I bought her something that I don’t think you’re going to like…” you have to wonder what to do.

On the one hand, you can argue with your mother, start one of those epic battles that lasts for months and causes you endless grief; you could mandate that it’s a Grandma’s-house only toy, which also infuriates her; you could accept the toy and only let her play with it under supervision and try using it for positive body image; or you could take it now, get rid of it later and claim that it was lost somewhere on the preschool commute.

But what about when a Barbie isn’t a Barbie? When traipsing through the aisles looking for birthday gifts for various relatives and classmate parties, we’ve seen a few Barbies. My daughter has never even asked for them or shown an interest—she’s more into animals, puzzles and whatnot right now. But I have actually wanted a few myself!
Not the glitzy and glamorous skinny-mini Barbies that I disdain so much, but the cute little pixies that don’t look much like Barbie so much as Tinkerbell knockoffs. I know they’re still not great body image role models, but I’m a sucker for fairies (and unicorns and elves and whatnot) and have had to resist a mild urge now and again to buy one such item.

So the Barbie my mother bought for my daughter (today, actually) is a Mermaid Barbie. It has no legs and definitely looks like a mermaid, but it’s still got the makeup, bland expression and unrealistic top-half of her body. My mom’s rationalization was that it doesn’t look like a Barbie, so we don’t have to call it one—she just wanted to get my daughter “a mermaid” because she loves to swim.

I was pretty annoyed at first, and when I saw the thing I was slightly appeased—yes, it was slightly better than the average Barbie, and we technically could call it a mermaid, but what if this grudging acceptance prompts my mother to buy more in the future?

My daughter promptly tossed the doll on the floor when we got home and went outside to hunt for snails with her dad. I have not seen her pick it up since. Perhaps I’m worried about nothing.