Wanna Fanta? Doncha wanna?
I hate to admit this, but I love the Fantanas. If I could get 12-inch fashion dolls of all four of them, I would. I’m especially chagrined that, on their web site, the low-res pics make them look like drag queens. But, then again, if they were drag queens, that would be even more awesome.
My favorite is Lola. (“Loves Pineapple!”) If you click on their faces on the site, you see the fake-ass little bios Fanta made up for them. Lola’s the fictionally smart one, I figured out. I have good taste.
My sons and I saw their commercial the other day at the movie theater. Just to tease them, I asked my two youngest which Fantana was their favorite. I expected them to say, “Gross.” Instead, my nine-year-old very soberly said, “Orange.” My seven-year-old said, “Red. No – purple. No – red.”
I asked my soon-to-be-twelve-year-old, really wanting to know his answer. He gave me a narrow-eyed grimace and said, “Green, mom. Green.”
(There is no green Fantana.)
No, I’m not getting paid by Fanta to write this. Hey… dang it! Man, I need an agent.
