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One of my favorite Christmas gifts ever was the Rainbow Brite doll I got in 1986. I was so enamored with her ROYGBIV beauty that on Christmas morning I refused to play with anything or anyone else. There's even VHS footage of me snapping at my little sister and her Cabbage Patch baby to go away because I was otherwise engaged. So, when I saw that Amazon had the same doll in all her original yarn hair glory, I had to get one for Charlotte.
Sure, she's eighteen months to my four years when I got the doll, and the box clearly states that it's not for children under three. (Apparently, there's danger of tykes choking on Rainbow's sprite sidekick, Twink.) But there's no harm in letting her look at it. Truth be told, I'd rather keep the toy mint for a while. I'm not ready to see Char Bar unleash her considerable fury enthusiasm and mangle poor Rainbow.
To me, Rainbow Brite symbolizes Christmas and joy and nostalgia and all of the things. And I want to instill that in Charlotte so that she can find her own merry muse, be it Bluey or Elmo or a character that hasn't hatched yet. Because that's what Christmas is all about.
Well, that and antagonizing your siblings.
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