As feminist parents of a girl, you find yourself telling her that when she grows up, she can be wahtever she wants to be as though it is some sort of mantra.
This is more than a little ridic on more than one level, not the least of which is that neither BioMom's nor my parents used that mantra and we both turned out alright.
In fact, I remember the following interaction with Dear-Old-Dad when I was about the FYO's age:
Wanna know what I want to be when I grow up?
You're not smart enough for that, [blog author]!
Obviously I've still got a bit of "mad-at-dad syndrome" with which to deal.
Anyway, I say this mantra to the FYO knowing that its not quite true. Let's face it, the FYO is not going to be a professional ballet dancer (those of you that know her can vouch for that). But she will also never be what she announced she wanted to be the other day while having lunch at Chapati.
After observing two beautiful women walk in with lovely Sari's the FYO says:
I want to be an Indian when I grow up.
BioMom: Well, you can't really BECOME an Indian. You are BORN that way.
Me: You could MARRY an Indian!
My suggestion was myopic. I was hungry and all-things-curry smelled good. Oh, and that pudding: Kheer. I WANTED that pudding. . . . Then I thought better of it, remembering two relevant facts:
1. My cousin (daughter #1 of "Lez", not the famed "Cousin" of this blog who is daughter #2 of Lez) married a Greek and now LIVES in Greece. The last time I saw her and her three kids was in 1997.
2. This post by Dooce:
This month you have also figured out how to open things, things that aren't supposed to be opened, things with LOCKS HOLDING THEM SHUT. You know the unlock code on the babysitter's cell phone and once called her Peruvian boyfriend, Chimmy. Chimmy Chimmy Cocoa Puffs has taken hold of your heart somehow because you will say things for that boy that you won't say for anyone else, things like, "Uh, oh," and "Wow wow wow," and "Taco." Here's the thing, kid: if you fall in love with some boy from another country and he takes you away to that other country where I won't ever get to see you or my grandchildren then you can just consider yourself grounded until you're 80, or at least until you fall in love with someone nearby who has a lot of money.
So no. You can't become OR marry an Indian. Unless, of course, he lives in the greater metropolitan area.
And is rich.
And has a good sense of humor.
Oh yeah. . . And is a good cook.