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pantryslutThe other day on the playground, Simone was bitten by a goose. She had bread in her hand, and the bite didn't leave a mark, so it was pretty clearly a case of trying to get at the food rather than aggressively attacking her. Still, she was understandably freaked out. I told her, to help explain the situation and calm her down a little, that the goose had made a mistake and that if it could talk it would apologize.
When I told this story to G. later in the evening, he laughed. "You lied!" he said. "That goose would have said, 'gimme the bread.'"
Later that same day on the playground, Simone was explaining her gender identity to some new acquaintances in response to their inquiries. "I'm a girl and a boy," she said. "I'm both." There was some ensuing discussion amongst said new acquaintances regarding indicators such as hair length, clothing, voice, etc., trying to correct the situation into a tidy binary once more. At which point she spread her hands and said, "I am who I am."
I melt, Dear Readers. I melt.
When I told this story to G. later in the evening, he laughed. "You lied!" he said. "That goose would have said, 'gimme the bread.'"
Later that same day on the playground, Simone was explaining her gender identity to some new acquaintances in response to their inquiries. "I'm a girl and a boy," she said. "I'm both." There was some ensuing discussion amongst said new acquaintances regarding indicators such as hair length, clothing, voice, etc., trying to correct the situation into a tidy binary once more. At which point she spread her hands and said, "I am who I am."
I melt, Dear Readers. I melt.
