* Before Addie was born I swore she would not be a little Pepto-Princess. No pink stuff! I decreed, and painted her room green. No super-girly stuff! I swore, and put all the pink clothes and frilly dresses my amazingly generous friends sent into a storage box.
Of course now, less than two months later, on any given day you can find the girlchild in a carefully coordinated little-pink-sweater-over-pink-striped-dress-over-pink-flowery-pants-with-pink-butterfly-socks ensemble. While I, her formally high-heeled and be-suited mother, pull on whichever pair of jeans I didn't wear yesterday and the shirt with the least leaked milk/drool on it.
*New pet-peeve: singers who change the pronouns of cover songs to suit their gender. No, it is NOT "Every little thing he does is magic." My former fifth graders might have said OMG UR SO GAY CUZ YOU SAID "SHE."
But I think most of us would appreciate an unadulterated cover, or at least not give a flying flip if the singer is SO GAY.
* Last night I was bringing the tomato seedlings in and spotted a little furry thing on the floor. EEK! I shrieked, just like a cartoon lady spotting a mouse. But it wasn't a mouse, it was a mole that our big grey cat kilt and left as a gift to us. The FYD came over, made various gagging sounds, and suggested that we 1-2-3-shoot to determine who would have to pick it up. Without even thinking, I said, But you're the MAN!
Yes, you may take back my feminist card, but at least I didn't have to touch the dead mole.