He's a She...

I'm not talking about Chaz Bono...or Khloe Kardashian...

When a woman walks into home depot to buy a rake, carrying a baby dressed head to toe in pink, with a pink headband, don't stop her and jokingly say, "He looks a little young to be raking leaves." This man was old. Old old old. Like one foot real deep in the grave old, so I was a good sport. I said, "Yeah, SHE is a little young...good thing her dad is just old enough!"

This is not the first time someone has assumed my femininely dressed child is a he. I would rather someone refer to her as an "it" than as a "he." There's nothing wrong with being a "he," except for that she's a "she." It never fails, it's always an old person.

"Ohhhh how old is he?"
"SHE is 7 months."
"Ohhhh 'she?'"

No, old man, Collins is a boy. I dress him head to toe in pink and purple in public, because I desperately want to saddle him with a socially debilitating gender identity disorder. Good lord. And they say our generation is chock-full of degenerates? At least we understand the implication of context clues. There's a reason why she's wearing a "Daddy's Little Girl" onesie and not a Bob the Builder tee shirt, got it?

"Well what if she likes Bob the Builder?"

Likes? She's 7 months old. Aside from eating, pooping and the sound of her own voice, she doesn't know what she likes. The day she decides what she likes, as long as it's legal and morally sound, I'm right there with her...cuz God knows that's a step above some of the things I've liked in my day.