Of Gender Issues

Our daughter appears to be in the throes of a gender crisis.  I'm assuming that, at age two, that's ok.  In about 15 years, not so much.

The other day, she announced she was a prince.  Trying to steer her in the right direction, Aunt Dia pronounced, "Yes, you are a princess."

"No.  I not a princess.  I'm a prince.  You're a princess."

Any attempts to persuade the young royal that she was not of the appropriate gender for her assumed role proved futile.

The following day, when I announced Emmett was a "very good boy" (for some task I no longer remember), Micaiah decided she was a good boy as well - and definitely not, as we struggled to insist, a good girl.  In fact, I distinctly remember her frustration to the verge of tears in trying to convince us to agree with her.  Finally, not wanting to drive our daughter crazy, we dropped the issue.  She simply could not wrap her head around why she could not be labeled a boy and why, oh why, her brother gets to have all the fun.

I seem to remember having a similar inward struggle the day puberty hit, but that's another story altogether.  For now, I choose to believe these inane issues will work themselves out in time and we'll leave it at that.