Do I Throw Like a Girl? I Can Only Hope.

 

star wars stormtrooper

Madison found the T-shirt in Target, which twisted up a familiar put-down and tossed it back in boys’ faces.

“Yeah, I kick like a girl,” it admitted. “Jealous?” You ought to be, boys. I get it. A man will call his boy “son,” name him after himself, or even pass on a II, III or IV. He’s your heir. He’s your pee-in-the-snow partner. He’s your buckaroo; a chip off the old block, even.

Little You.

He might also become mama’s boy, a lover-not-a-fighter, or, heaven forbid, a Thomas the Tank Engine fan. A man will call his girl many things, but likely, the family name will get wiped out.

Continue reading “Do I Throw Like a Girl? I Can Only Hope.”

Boy, it’s good to have girls.

photo credit: Si-MOCs via photopin cc
photo credit: Si-MOCs via photopin cc

Getting their hair done.

Getting their nails did.

Buying clothes. Or accessories. Or jewelry.

All things my girls probably sometimes want, or will want, someday.

Continue reading “Boy, it’s good to have girls.”