Friday, January 18, 2008

Gentlemen, consider yourselves warned

Bedtime conversation tonight between me and my five-year-old daughter, whose obsession with princesses often worries my progressive side. I swear to Ghod every word is true.

Me:Okay Miss Lucy, time to get your pyjamas on, it's bed-time.
Her: (imperiously) I'm not a "Miss."
Me: You're a girl, right? I didn't get you mixed up with the other kid did I?
Her: (giggling) I'm a girl, but I'm not a "Miss."
Me: You look a bit young to be a Mrs., did you get married and forget to invite me? What do you mean you're not a "Miss?"
Her: (triumphantly) I'm a "Ms."
Me: (somewhat stunned at the sophistication of the five-year-old mind) What do you mean? Why are you a "Ms." and not a "Miss"?
Her: (with much eye-rolling and a patronizing tone I suspect I better get used to) Daaa-aaad! "Ms." is better than "Miss"! It just sounds better.

Maybe I'm projecting a bit, but maybe I'm doing a better job than I thought. I couldn't be prouder of my daughter. The princess thing had me a little worried at first, but to her being a princess means A) you're the boss and B) fabulous clothes and pets (On watching Aladdin: "Dad, Princess Jasmine has a tiger. Why can't we have a tiger?") - the idea of waiting for some goofy prince to come and save you doesn't seem to even have ever occurred to her, she's more likely to be the one doing the rescuing.

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