A friend and I were standing in the children’s section of a local book shop. As we chatted, her daughter raided the dress-up box and was piling on costumes and accessories. Every time the little girl ran over I told her that she looked gorgeous and that one more string of beads or another tiara would be just the thing.
“I bet you were a terror with dressing up when you were younger,” my friend said. “I can see you in your mother’s heels, her dresses trailing behind you, jewellery all over, handbag in hand, lipstick on your mouth and cheeks. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Oh sorry,” I said. ”Sometimes I forget you’ve never met my mother.”
hehe. You came out in a sensible cardigan twin set (albet very stylish Sue!!) with a copy of “The Second Sex” and asked your mommy what it meant that women are made, not born?