My daughter doesn't like "normal" toys. Either that, or she loves to tinker with stuff that are technically not toys.
She'd much rather raid the kitchen shelves for the wire whisk, the ice cream scoop and the microwaveable plastics than play with those dainty teasets. She hoards fast-food spoons and forks and straws and pretends they are towers, or princesses, or frogs, or whatever she fancies them to be.
She has also consistently challenged my no-obviously-unsafe-toys policy. The other day, I came home to find her asleep, cradling this really cheap doll. Top Model Barbie, it seems, has lost out to Sharpay the Doll. And to Baby Sharpay, who, in her past life, was a remote control.