I enjoyed the following in the comments section of a Boing Boing post on toys and gender:
I can remember, very clearly, sitting on Santa’s lap and asking him for a robot. And Santa said “Don’t you want a nice doll instead?” I insisted that I wanted a robot. Didn’t matter. Neither Santa nor my parents thought I should have a robot. I got dolls. My Aunt gave me a baby doll for Christmas one year and I, very politely for a three year old, told her that I did not play with dolls, did not care for them. I was escorted from the room, paddled, and then tearfully thanked her for the doll. I never touched said doll again. The fashion dolls I got in subsequent years, I dismembered.