Marriage Super Short Stories

“Wonderful! A retarded Barbie? I suppose that was made in honor of all you lifetime collectors.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say, Herb! It was a very kind thing for the Barbie folks to do. Now, truly everyone can find a place in Barbie world.”

“Really, Brenda? What about crazy 57-year-old overweight women who insist on living a fantasy life vicariously by collecting and hoarding stupid dolls? Where do those women fit in, Brenda?”

Brenda was taken aback for a moment, then regained her calm and said, “I’ll have you know, Herbert Weinstock, we Barbie enthusiasts are much more than collectors. We are the caretakers of the Barbie universe. That responsibility is a great and noble task. As you have so eloquently demonstrated by your juvenile comments, it can be a challenging duty, fraught with criticism and ridicule from those who are simply too ignorant to understand.”

“Ignorant? Ignorant? Look, Brenda. I’ve had it! I’m going to work, and when I get home, these dolls better be gone, or I’m going to pile them up in the backyard and burn them.”

Brenda screamed, “You… you wouldn’t! You couldn’t do something so horrible. You wouldn’t dare!”

“I most certainly would and most definitely will! Mark my words, Brenda!”

With that final declaration, Herbert left for the office, slamming the front door behind him. The impact caused several boxed Barbie toys to fall from their shelves. When one of the boxes fell, it revealed a small opening that had been cut into the wall and which was hidden by one of the boxes. Brenda reached into the void and retrieved a very special Barbie character. She had created it by modifying a damaged Ken doll she had picked up at a flea market. It was one Herbert had never seen.

“Brenda, this obsession of yours has gotten way out of control.” Herbert Weinstock said to his wife. He was standing in his living room with his briefcase, ready to head out to work. He looked about the room with a combination of disgust and frustration.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Herb,” she replied.

“Jesus, Brenda. You’ve gotta be kidding me! It’s this obsession you have with collecting all this Barbie crap! For God’s sake! You’re fifty-seven years old. Why the hell are you still collecting these ridiculous dolls?”

Herbert pointed to the hundreds of boxed Barbie dolls that lined the shelves on almost every wall. He had known his wife collected everything Barbie-related when he married her thirty-five years earlier, but back then, her collection had been relegated to a small extra bedroom in a seldom-used area of the house. Now, Barbie paraphernalia was found in abundance in every room.

Brenda replied, “You just don’t understand Herb. You never understood. The world of Barbie isn’t simply about collecting dolls; it’s so much more than that. The thing about Barbie is it’s a… well, I suppose it’s a lifestyle.”

“Lifestyle?” Herb shouted, “More like a cult of mindless idol-worshiping minions. That’s it! It’s idolatry; that’s what it is. Brenda, you’ve become an idol-worshipping pagan!”

“What the Hell are funeral urns doing in the back of our SUV?”

“Good question, Anson. What are funeral urns doing in the back of our SUV … that you bought and supposedly checked out, and which was such an amazing deal?”

“Hold on now, Gina. You can’t go blaming me for this. It was obviously some slight oversight on the part of Fred’s Auction. I had nothing to do with it. It’s not my fault.”

“Of course, it’s not your fault. It’s never your fault. It wasn’t your fault when you bought that car with the dead skunk in the trunk, either, was it? That dead skunk made the car unfit for human habitation. That was another great deal, as I recall. Now we have dead people in the back of our SUV.”

“Wait a minute, Gina. They ain’t exactly dead people. They are dead people’s ashes. That is, assuming the urns are actually full. Check to see if they are full.”

“What? I’m not checking for any such thing. First, you know how I hate anything to do with death, dead people, or dead things in general. Secondly, you bought this death mobile, this hearse, you come over here and check it out your own damn self. I don’t want no part of this disgusting business.”

“Fine, fine, fine. Let me look at these.” Anson lifted the lid on the first urn and saw it was full of ashes. He didn’t bother with the second urn; he just lifted it to see if it had any significant weight. “Yep. They are both filled with ashes.”