THE PLACE: my house, dinnertime.
THE EVENT: my daughter's twelfth birthday.
The crowd: me and seven sixth graders.
Here's an accurate recount of the conversation that went on.
Me (lieutenant Columbo): "Young ladies, what would you like to do when you grow up?"
Young Lady: "I know I will become a pastry chef and I will marry"
Me(intrigued): " Really? Who would you like to marry?"
Young Lady: "I would be happy to marry someone who doesn't fart at the dinner table"
Me(trying to break the news gently): " Honey, you do know that a man like that does not exist"
Young Lady: ( with the halfway smile of someone who has been around the block a few times):
" I KNOW!!!"
These girls are only twelve!
I suddenly realize I have a lot to learn from them.
These girls don't dwell on the images of the ideal man that I have been fed all my life. They forged their own ideas about boys on soccer fields; the boys adorable bestiality is endearing to them.
The Prince is Charming even if he farts, as long as he doesn't do it during Thanksgiving dinner.
From other details I was able to gather during our conversation one thing is sure:
they are, and feel, equal.
These girls give me hope for their future and mine.
I believe they will be able to hold their own in any farting incident; most likely they will strike back.
When, and if, I grow up, I want to be like them.
Dedicated to a Young Lady named Kiana.