OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHno. The pink socks (see rants passim) are bad enough. I have yielded on vile plastic dolls. I am prepared to yield on Bratz. The general tidal wave of girliness that suffuses the Inferiority Complex has some quite enjoyable (if pink and sparkly) aspects. But when my not quite three year old gestures to the "boys' toys" ands says she "doesn't like those" I start to get worried. I see her refusing to study physics, and just looking for a Big Strong Man to take care of her and not worry her pretty little head about things and oh dear oh dear oh dear did Emily Wilding Davison die in vain, eh?
Eh???
Reassure me, this too shall pass...or will it?