Last night when I was trying to sleep it occurred to me that my house is Barbie-free. Well, maybe not completely Barbie-free. We still have a sad, lonely set of twin sheets that feature our blonde and beautiful friend but, as my boys are the only ones with twin beds, they don’t get much use. There are no longer any Barbie dolls, clothes, shoes or accessories in our house, though. Not a one. They’ve all gone to the great Barbie emporium in the sky, courtesy of Waste Management, Inc. and Glad Force Flex garbage bags.

The whole Barbie thing at our house started when Marissah was two. My lovely neighbor, who shall remain nameless (her name rhymes with bear-see, just a hint) decided that my daughter needed her first Barbie doll. I was adamant that she did not need her first Barbie—she was two years old! Well, Neighbor-who-shall-remain-nameless got her way and she gave Marissah a Barbie for Christmas. Marissah liked it, of course.

I wasn’t anti-Barbie or anything, but I’m still not sure she’s a great role model for young girls. Let’s face it, when Barbie leaves the “office” at night, we know she’s not going to a museum opening or even home to read a book. No, no, no. Barbie’s heading home to watch Entertainment Tonight and thumb through the latest copy of People to see if there are any articles about her and Ken’s nasty break-up. She’s not volunteering her time at an animal shelter or a soup kitchen, she’s spending hours on the phone with Skipper, dishing out advice (No, Skipper, you simply must wait for him to call. Good girls don’t call boys!). This isn’t even touching Barbie’s totally unrealistic body image. If Barbie were a real woman her measurements would be 38-18-34. I don’t know about anyone else, but my 13-year-old daughter’s waist is bigger than that, by quite a few inches!

Yes, I know there are Teacher Barbie and Astronaut Barbie and probably even Rocket Scientist Barbie, but there is also Barbie and Tanner. Tanner is a dog and he poops. Yes, he poops. Never fear, though, Barbie has her own little pooper scooper and a lovely pink trash bin in which to dispose of Tanner’s waste. And we also have Barbie Divas-these are the new version of that 80s hit, Barbie and The Rockers! Our girls can learn to dress like Britney Spears and Lindsay Lohan, just what we’ve always wanted!

I had a few Barbies when I was growing up, but not many. I just wasn’t that into them. My most beloved Barbie wasn’t a Barbie at all. It was Barbie’s friend, Tropical Miko. Now, we all understand Barbie’s friends, don’t we? Most girls never wanted to play with them-they were just “extras.” Face it, Barbie had to have a little competition for Ken’s affections. That’s where Teresa and Skipper and Miko came in. And Miko, well, she’s another story altogether. She’s Barbie’s version of that famous line: “I’m not prejudiced! Some of my best friends are black!”

So while I was lying in bed last night, I was kind of surprised by the little bit of sadness I felt. I’ll never again find a naked Barbie in the fridge or the bathtub. I’ll never again play Barbies with Marissah, teaching her how to dress the dolls and showing her the finer points of color coordination. On the other hand, I’ll never again step on a Barbie shoe in my bare feet in the middle of the night-and that is something for which I am truly thankful! I guess I’m mostly sad that my little girl has grown up and left her Barbies behind. While I was writing this, I turned to Barbie.com for assistance. Marissah noticed and asked what I was doing. I told her I was looking for something. “For me?” she asked. “No,” I told her. “Good!” she said.