When I watched my little cousins on New Year's Eve, it was not bad at all. We played a few games, then they watched some movies while I watched television in the other room.
One of the games we played was Dolls. They dragged me into the room and introduced me to all of the Barbies. As for "playing Dolls" goes, they knew what to do. Go to beach parties in the Barbie Jeep, and ride away on Sparkle the Magic Horse. They really wanted me to play with them, but I honestly had no idea what to do. I never played with dolls when I was their age. I wasn't a girly-girl, I was more of a stuffed animal kind of kid. So they kept telling me, "Play with us! Play with Necklace!" (Necklace was the name of the doll they gave me.) The only thing I knew to do was move the doll's hands around and say in a high-pitched voice, "Hey, what's your name?"
Later, they moved the dolls into the living room, where both girls started playing on their own. I sat on the couch and watched.
Grace, the older cousin by 2 years, did the stereotypical Barbie play: go to the ball, dress up, ride horses. I heard the dialouge, stuff like "Do you want to ride to the park in my Jeep?"; "Sure, I'd love to, but let's dance first."
Then I watched Emma, the littler cousin. When she played with the Barbies, her actions were a bit different. She made the Ken doll make out with Barbie, and she also had all of her Barbies devoured by a shark. I heard her say, "Look out, don't step on the blood on the ground!"
I can't help but think that if I did play with Barbies when I was little, I would have played the same way Emma did. It made me wonder if Emma will grow up to be a cynical wise ass like me. But, you never can tell. You can just hope for the best.