The Day Mattel Tried To Quash My Child's Dreams

My daughter was given a present today. It was a little, plastic Cinderella doll and a toy horse with shiny, sparkly hair. The box was all pink and covered in pictures of birds and swirly bits, the kind of thing to make a toddler's eyes widen in an immediate rush of joy and anticipation.

And dancing mice. Dancing mice wearing little hats.

My daughter passed the box over to me so that I could open it for her. I could see the gleam in her eye, the eagerness to play with her new toys, to send her little Cinderella galloping across the brilliant meadows of her imagination, jewel-toned butterflies dancing on the breeze kicked up by the horses shining hooves, Cinderella's plastic hands grasping the horse's reins as the two of them rush towards a fence, ready to leap as one and-

...

...Um

... What was that?

But... the brilliant meadows... the-the butterflies...

...

Okay. Okay... maybe... maybe it was a size issue. Maybe Cinderella was too big, and... Okay, I could explain this to my daughter, and she'd understand. Just like when I had to explain to her why she could not ride on her 13-month-old sister's back. I would just put doll and horse side by side and she'd learn a lesson in size difference and...

Right. So size didn't seem to be an issue. Well, then maybe everything would be okay, and my daughter could still have her meadows and hedgerows and-

ARGH. 

By that point, I'd had it. How dare Mattel, beloved company of my youth, purveyor of toys and dreams and gumdrop-scented rainbows tell my child that her little Cinderella doll cannot ride - nay, even dare to sit on a horse? What would be next? Telling her that Santa Claus isn't real? That the Tooth Fairy is retired? That the Easter Bunny isn't going to bring her any candy because he's too busy setting up a meth-lab and single-handedly destroying the imaginations of boys and girls all across the world?

Well, here's what I have to say to that:

Your move, Mattel. Your move.