This weekend, most probably on Sunday afternoon, sometime after my mid-month nose wiping, I will be burning copies of Sister Penelope's Book for Girls, a blasphemous and damnable compendium of sugar and spice and all things nice. Readers of this wretched book - if you can actually call them "readers," since it mostly contains pictures of puppies and butterflies - plan to erect a dolls house in the northeastern corner of our nursery, a sacred alcove where branch-line track from my train set once ran before nanny banned such operations after a heavy freight engine collided with her foot. Who knows where the girl germs will end if these Strawberry Shortcake wannabes are allowed to erect their floral wallpapered monstrosity? It is an insult to the time-honored, little boy traditions of leaving greasy fingerprints on the furniture and making sparks by over-cranking a clockwork motor.
Post a comment
Your Information
(Name and email address are required. Email address will not be displayed with the comment.)
We've been turning their dolls houses into train wreck "ground zeros" for seven years. If we fall into this trap, the girls have won!
Posted by: Jonty City | September 14, 2010 at 15:23
To be honest, in my experience, it's always wise to let the girls win.
Posted by: american fez | September 15, 2010 at 16:52