I was blessed while growing up to be raised by an amazingly strong and independent woman. My mother also had a tendency to surround herself with amazingly strong independent women as well. Not to get too Freudian on everyone, but a friend of mine made a compelling argument for the women in my life being the basis for my love of science fiction. No other genre has soooo many strong female characters. Sci-fi gave us Princess Leia, Rey, Dr. River Song, Amy Pond, Rose Tyler, Mara Jade, Ripley, Newt, I really could go on and on all day. I am quite thankful for all of this though. I never grew up with the Norman Rockwell version of gender stereotypes and I don't intend to let my daughter either. As a matter of fact I will be starting on her first set of Mando Armor in the next few weeks! My Liz'ika (Star Wars language for Little Liz) will be kicking ass along side her Daddy and nerding out.
Even though I am confident that I will raise a strong little lady, I can't help but still be protective. If you have a boy then you only have to worry about 1 penis. If you have a little girl then I have to worry about all of the penises! A friend of ours was recently assaulted while walking to her car, the thought of that ever happening to Elizabeth sets my freaking teeth on edge. Hell, a pregnant friend of ours was holding Elizabeth and her unborn son started kicking Elizabeth. Now I am not saying that I would ever punch a pregnant lady, but my protective instincts kicked in just from that harmless interaction! Got help her first boyfriend.
An unintended consiquence of have a daughter is that boobs are now ruined for me. I won't lie, before if I saw a good looking lady I would look. I'm married, not dead. Now, I see a good looking woman and all I can think of is that she is someone's mother or daughter and those boobs on her chest were not put there for decoration. They serve a purpose. I got highly bummed out while driving home from work earlier this week. On my way home there is a titty bar. I refuse to call them gentleman's clubs because guys don't dress up in suits and top-hats and discuss politics while sipping scotch in these places. Normally I prefer the phrase "strip club", but I think after my description of this place you will see that the best name for it is a titty bar. Anyways, this place is in the middle of nowhere. The building is actually 2 double wide trailers pushed together and out front is a sign that has the name of the "club" and also read "2 for 1 lap dances! Look for the coupon in the Penny Saver!". Now do you see why this place is a titty bar? Back to my point, all I could think of is what happens if Elizabeth ever winds up dancing like the girls and this place? I doubt she would, but still. After pondering all of this for a while I ended up just getting really angry when I realized my freaking daughter had ruined strip clubs and strange boobs for me! She isn't even 2 months old and already my Fatterhood experiment is a failure!
Don't want anyone getting the wrong idea by the way, I never have frequented strip clubs (or ogled pretty ladies for that matter) a lot. I have always found them to be kind of gross and depressing places. But every now and again (and of course with my wife's permission) it was kind of fun to go to one for special occasions. But somehow, this damn kid managed to ruin boobs...I'm not even mad, I'm impressed. But I swear if she doesn't stop making eye contacting with me while nursing with my wife...I might end up losing my shit.
I will be posting another post when we get back from the cabin on Monday. In the meantime, I hope everyone has a great weekend and everyone is safe. I will be soaking up the sun while drinking beer and smoking cigars...in true Fatterhood style! But not looking at boobs...Cheers!
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