Savvy (4) just came running upstairs from the playroom and said breathlessly: Mom! I have bad news. You know that Barbie from when you were a kid? We found her body.
Me *after taking a beat for dramatic emphasis: So you just burst into my office like this and blurt out that you found her body? No Kleenex? What if I had started hysterically crying from shock and grief?
Savvy *unfazed: Well are you mad?
Me *feigning reluctance: Well I don’t know…is there even a search underway?
Savvy *chewing gum: For the head?
Me: Her head.
Savvy *with the indifference of a DMV employee: Yeah, we can look. If we don’t find it we can put the old Ken doll head on her.
Me *resigned: I guess anything goes. It’s the 90s.
Savvy: Yeah, it’s the 90s.
She repeated “it’s the 90s” in solemn agreement, as if I had just said a universal thing people say like, “well that’s life.” Then she gave me a stern little nod, the way men acknowledge one another at the funeral of an elderly distant relative, and scampered off, leaving me mostly amused but slightly unsettled.
Now I’m wondering if she’s going to be on a date someday and the waiter will say,
“I’m sorry, Miss, but we’re out of the halibut, may I suggest the salmon?”
And she’ll shrug and say, “Sure, it’s the 90s.”
And her date will be like, “Wait, what?”
Her: “Y’know, it’s the 90s. Like, it’s whatever.”
Him: “That’s not a thing.”
For the record, “Hey, it’s the 90s” is a quote from the movie Mrs. Doubtfire which was released in the actual 1990s, and I do use it indiscriminately because I think it’s funny. But she doesn’t know that.
Oh well. When in Rome.