I should wait another day, and take some perfect lighting/artistic shots of THE DOLLHOUSE to do it justice, but I am suffering from blog neglect guilt and felt the need to entertain all five of you readers on your lazy Sunday afternoon.
I am bringing you what just may be the ultimate SCORE from Santa. Ever.
We got THE DOLLHOUSE.
Nay, not just a lowly dollhouse...but my strapping, manly boys have clocked in as much time as the girls with this thing. Except they call it THE MAX! STEELE! ACTION! MAN! FORTRESS!! There are zip-lines running from the roof, and the Barbie office is a "command center."
This is not your ordinary dollhouse, we are talking, if this sucker was a tad bigger I would move in myself.
After all, THE DOLLHOUSE has a flat mount big screen TV, and Internet access in the office.
Here is the children's playroom:
You can see Max Steele (the hotter and bad-boyish version of his wussy counterpart Ken) is hanging out waiting for Barbie to bring him a Mountain Dew. With extra ice. Cause he is so hot. Don't you think he is hot? I like to play Barbies when Max Steele is my date.
Oh, Max...I see someone moved you to the bedroom for your headshot? Did you need a nap?
And in the playroom you can see all the necessities are covered, ceiling fan...check, toy box....check, and every dollhouse needs it's own dollhouse. Heh. (I did a cool arrow to point out the little dollhouse. In THE DOLLHOUSE. Be impressed with my 'shopping skillz.
I can't believe the details of THE DOLLHOUSE.
There were matching faux fur rugs for the living room.
There were teeny towels in the bathroom.
There was a velcro to the ceiling chandelier in the dining room.
Probably my favorite room of THE DOLLHOUSE is the laundry room. What woman wouldn't be impressed with the state of the art wooden appliances? It came complete with a vacuum, a swiffer (you can see it in the closet) and a treadmill.
Yes, because every health-conscious Barbie will want to remain fit and firm with Max Steele around.