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Simone needs to have a talk with the Boy Scouts.

Today in the car, on the drive home from a pizza playdate in Emeryville, I had to try to explain in age-appropriate language why I won't let Simone join the Boy Scouts. After some discussion of exclusion and the introduction of the vocabulary word "gay", Simone seemed to accept our explanation, which was basically that they didn't like people like her parents and wouldn't let them help. Then she said,

"Mom, when I'm an adult, I think I need to have a talk with them. Will you tell me where they are so I can talk with them?"

Quickly adopting my Sage Mother Look so as to disguise my interior giggling, I told her I would be glad to.

"Good. I want to talk to them about it and maybe they'll stop being mean."

Use your words, Simone. Go forth and use them well.

Comments

I am given to understand that using one's words is all the more effective with a big stick in one's hand. Just saying.

Sorry. I'm feeling pugnacious lately for reasons that have nothing whatsoever to do with Simone, who is clearly far more mature than I am.
Good for her. Good for you.

(Can she write yet? She doesn't need to be an adult to start telling them to stop being mean.)
She's just beginning to write. (But she can also dictate.)

Edited at 2013-04-25 04:20 pm (UTC)
Gorgeous.