Friday, July 14, 2006
Whipped Cream Is For Daddies, Or, Everything I Need To Know I Learned At Starbucks
Precocious Child in charmingly unnecessary cherry-red rain boots, ogling some guy's whipped cream topped beverage: That's mine!
(She had made similar questionable declarations regarding a juice box, a bright pink water bottle, and the Connect Four game.)
Mom: You know what? That drink is only for daddies. That's a daddy drink.
PC: But... I want it.
Mom: You can have some the next time Daddy is here.
PC: My youthful exuberance and uninhibited spirit have just been a little bit deflated, an experience I anticipate repeating well into adolescence as you continue to pass the buck with pat gender excuses, Mommy. (Indicated in baffled facial expression only.)
Wonderturtle (inwardly): I feel you, sister. ¶ 11:52 AM
Precocious Child in charmingly unnecessary cherry-red rain boots, ogling some guy's whipped cream topped beverage: That's mine!
(She had made similar questionable declarations regarding a juice box, a bright pink water bottle, and the Connect Four game.)
Mom: You know what? That drink is only for daddies. That's a daddy drink.
PC: But... I want it.
Mom: You can have some the next time Daddy is here.
PC: My youthful exuberance and uninhibited spirit have just been a little bit deflated, an experience I anticipate repeating well into adolescence as you continue to pass the buck with pat gender excuses, Mommy. (Indicated in baffled facial expression only.)
Wonderturtle (inwardly): I feel you, sister. ¶ 11:52 AM
