Curious George Gets Kidnapped

A reinterpretation of Curious George Rides a Bike

Book cover
Curious George has impulse control problems.

Curious George woke up, and he was very curious.

The man in the yellow hat (MITYH) tells George that they are going to celebrate the day that he, MITYH, kidnapped him, George, from the jungle. Wasn’t that just grand?

Curious George has no idea what the MITYH is talking about, because Curious George doesn’t speak English.

The man brings Curious George outside and shows him a big box. He opens the box, and takes out a bicycle! Why George knows what a bicycle is or how to ride it is beyond me, but for the purposes of this book, he can ride it. Facing forward, facing backward, up on the rear wheel.

“I have to go now,” says the MITYH. “Be a good little monkey, and stay near the house.”

Again: George doesn’t understand English, and he’s going to do whatever the fuck he wants. He probably should not be allowed outside unsupervised, but the MITYH doesn’t seem to get this.

George rides out into the street. A boy hands him a bag full of newspapers. He’s telling George something, but again: George is a fucking monkey.

George has seen the boy throw newspapers at houses, so this is what he decides to do too. When he gets to the end of the street, he rides toward the little river. He sees boys with toy boats, and decides to make a boat with the newspapers left in the bag.

Why Curious George knows how to make newspaper boats is a mystery. That must have been a very interesting jungle. We know the MITYH hasn’t taught him, because that guy is never around.

George uses up all the newspapers making boats, and he rides his bike along the riverbank watching them until he hits a rock and breaks his bike.

George cries until he remembers that he can ride the bike up on his rear wheel. (I didn’t know monkeys cried.) He rides along until he is kidnapped by some guy in a green coat and his partner Bob. They have a bunch of animals in cages, but they let George sit in the cab of their truck.

The guy in a green coat hands George a little outfit, also green, and a bugle. He says a bunch of shit that George doesn’t understand. George wanders up to the ostrich cage. He wonders if the ostrich can play a bugle. The ostrich tries to eat the bugle, and almost dies.

George’s outfit is taken off and the bugle is taken away. There is a lot of yelling, and George has to sit on a bench. The ostrich has recovered from its near death experience, and is nibbling on a string hanging near its cage.

Oddly enough, this string controls the cage door of the baby bear’s cage. Why a pull string is holding a cage door is beyond me. The ostrich pulls the string enough that the baby bear can get out, and he runs away and up the nearest tree.

George decides to blow the bugle. A bunch of men see the baby bear is up a tree. George thinks climbing a tree is a great idea. He puts the baby bear in the newspaper bag and drops him out of the tree. The men catch the baby bear.

George rides his bike around the animal show. The MITYH is there, which is odd because I’d have thought he’d be out looking for his missing pet monkey. Apparently he didn’t want to waste his tickets.

The boy who gave George the newspaper bag is also at the animal show. He is happy to get the bag back because his boss yelled at him about losing it. The people who didn’t get their newspapers aren’t mad because the newspaper company gave them all a refund.

George thinks he recognizes the guy in the yellow. Seems familiar. He decides to go home with him because what the hell. He’s got nothing to lose at this point!

Curious George is a Terrible Influence

I have read to my children since they were in utero. I was read to as a child, and so I read to my children. I understand how important it is in terms of childhood development, but my intent isn’t excellent educational outcomes for my children.

I like words, I like books, and I want my children to like words and books, too.

And I don’t mean to slay sacred cows, but my least favorite children’s character is Curious George. As a parent, I am appalled at the stuff he gets away with. The man with a yellow hat is terrible too. When is he going to learn that George is *always* going to get into trouble? He should stop leaving that little monkey alone.

The only “original” Curious George book we own is Curious George Rides a Bike, which has pretty serious racist undertones in my opinion. But we got a box set of “in the style of H.A. Rey” Curious George books: Curious George and the Puppies; Curious George Goes to the Movies; Curious George Goes Camping. I thought nothing of it at the time. George is a beloved children’s book character! The stories are simple! Isn’t that monkey silly?

But after reading all these books, over and over again for all three children, I’ve started having reservations about that silly monkey.

Every book starts the same: “This is George. George is a good little monkey, and always very curious.” Then he and his friend, the man in the yellow hat have an adventure.

The man almost always leaves George to his own devices right from the beginning. He’s got to buy tickets or get popcorn or go sign some paperwork. “Stay right here, George,” he cautions. “And don’t get into trouble.”

Dude in yellow hat! We’ve been here about 20 times now! George is going to wreak havoc on the next page, and we both know it!

George’s curiosity leads him to make bad decisions. That’s all there is to it. “What’s in here? What happens if I do this?” He knocks people over, lets puppies loose in an animal shelter, dumps a dump truck full of dirt into a pond, inadvertently steals a hot air balloon.

And then somehow, his havoc turns into a solution! He helps a skier win a race; he finds a missing puppy; he creates an island for ducks; he rescues a worker from Mt. Rushmore — which don’t get me started. That balloon would be dashed on George Washington’s nose before you could say “little blue car.”

In short, regardless of what trouble he gets into, there are never any consequences for George. He usually wins praise and ends up in the mayor’s car leading a parade, for goodness sake.

He invents snowboarding in this one. No kidding.
He invents snowboarding in this one. No kidding.

I know, I know: they are children’s books. They are about the adventure. But let’s face it: if a parent in the real world neglected his/her child the way the man in the yellow hat blithely wanders away from George, CPS would be all over that. At the very least, if Michael dumped a load of dirt into a pond, he’d be good and grounded.

My two favorite children’s authors are Kate DiCamillo and Mo Willems. Bink and Gollie and Elephant and Piggie are some characters I can relish. And reading Mo Willems aloud is the best.

Who’s your least favorite children’s book character and why?

Opinions Are Like… Bellybuttons*

Everybody has one. (*This is the family-friendly version of this saying.)

And that’s fine. It’s fine to have an opinion; it’s okay to express an opinion; it’s okay to disagree.

I’ve written about this before, kinda. And if I don’t like your opinion, it’s okay for me to say so, or change the channel, or, let’s see, end my subscription to your newspaper. It’s okay for me to unfollow you on Facebook.

We all have freedoms. As long as nobody’s threatening to throw you in jail, it’s not a First Amendment issue.

If you don’t understand something, that doesn’t make it wrong or a mental illness.

I haven’t the first clue what it’s like to be embodied as black, or gay, or male. I don’t know what transgendered people struggle with, and it would be beyond presumptuous for me to judge them for it.

I have been excruciatingly self-conscious in my body, especially as a teenager. Did you ever read Judy Blume, Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret? Yeah, I considered incorporating a part of that book into my nightly routine just in case it worked. But ultimately, I have come to terms with how flat-chested I am. I had boyfriends; I’m married; I’ve breast-fed babies. I am living proof that when it comes to boobs, size doesn’t matter.

But being transgendered is not feeling self conscious about an aspect of one’s body. I don’t pretend to understand it. But I’m also not going to mock it or call names.

My task, as a human and (especially as far as I’m concerned) as a Christian is to greet people with love and respect and tolerance in my heart.

Caitlyn Jenner in not a problem for conservatives. She’s not a problem for anyone. If you have a problem with people different than you, you need to pack that up in a box. Because it’s not about you. They aren’t coming for your body with a scalpel or a pair of shoes you don’t want to wear. No one’s going to make you marry someone of the same sex. For that matter, no one is going to make you practice a religion you don’t want to, or agree to an opinion you don’t hold. Ain’t America grand?

Also: You may have a problem with a whole hell of a lot of people. Because people are different.

Oh, and anyone who thinks transgendered people a) are doing it for attention or b) want you thinking about their genitals: knock that off. People don’t try to live authentically so that they have a spotlight placed on them. People don’t wake up one day and choose to be marginalized to the point of unemployment, homelessness, or violence.

No one does that.

The human experience is wide and varied, and I choose to embrace that. I am choosing to raise loving and tolerant human beings who will treat everyone with respect and dignity.

You can have your opinion, and you can express it. And I can walk away, and I can tell my children why we don’t think like that.

And that’s what I’m gonna do.

Purple orchid
Because flowers are pretty! And generally, not assholes.

Stop Apologizing!*

*unless it’s actually your fault.

I’ve noticed something recently that that bugging the hell out of me.

When I am walking somewhere, and need to go by someone, as I pass them, sometimes they say, “Sorry!”

They aren’t even necessarily in my way. I may have to take one step to the side or something, but if they were blocking me, I would simply say, “Excuse me”, smile, and go on by.

Usually, the person saying sorry is a woman.

My response to this unnecessary sorry is usually a bright, “Nope!” by which I mean to convey, “You have no reason to apologize to me. Please carry on.”

Ladies, stop saying sorry for things you don’t need to be sorry for. (Here’s a helpful list.) When an apology is the first thing out of your mouth, the listener is already discounting what comes after it.

“I’m sorry, but could you please review this copy so I can make my deadline?” Is it that person’s job to review your copy? You don’t need to apologize for asking him/her to do his/her job.

“I’m sorry, but I really think the marketing message should be about our excellent service.” If you feel strongly about it, why the hell are you apologizing?

“I’m sorry I mistakenly ate your yogurt. I thought it was mine.” That you can apologize for. You didn’t mean to steal someone’s food; you made an honest mistake.

“I’m sorry I ate that donut.” Are you really sorry you ate that donut? Did you want it? Did it taste delicious? Are you apologizing because you are socialized to believe that women should not eat delicious fattening food, especially in public? Knock that shit off. Enjoy the donut.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” This is a tricky one. If you are not sorry for what you did, but do feel bad that someone is upset, this can be a legitimate apology. For example, you choose blue sheets because you think they will look nice in the guest room, but your partner hates them. However, if you’ve actually been an ass, you should try to own up to it. Like if you chose the blue sheets even though you know your partner hates them.

If I walk into the ladies’ room, and you are washing your hands, you do not automatically have to say, “Sorry!” I’m probably not headed right to the sink anyway. I probably have other business first. But even if I am going to use the sink first, if I have to brush my teeth for example, you still don’t have to apologize. You were here first. I can wait. It’s no big deal.

Now, if I’m walking into the ladies’ room, and you open the door at exactly the same time I’m pushing on the door, and we startle each other, we can both say “sorry!” That’s always polite.

If this is you, please think before you say, “Sorry, but…”. Do you actually need to be sorry? Have you committed a grievous error that in the future you will try not to commit?

Otherwise, your “sorry” belittles you, makes you seem smaller and less important. Don’t do that to yourself. You feelings are legitimate; your opinions are important. You are an agent in the world.

Don’t be sorry for that.

Laying Down the Law

This weekend, I had to say the following sentence to my children:

“We will have no talk of slavery in this house.”

Once more, we were fighting about chores. I am one of those mean mommies who make their children do chores — clean their rooms, strip and make their beds, pick up the front room and vacuum, empty the dishwasher, set the table, clear the table, and rinse dishes and put them in the dishwasher. I make them pack their own lunches. I make them shower — this seems to be a big problem, the daily shower.

I sat them down on Sunday afternoon. Dan was present to show solidarity. This is what I told them (paraphrasing myself).

1. You are not allowed to tell me “no.” If I am asking you to do something that is within your physical capabilities, that will not cause you harm or harm to someone else, you do it.

2. I ask for about an hour of your time on a daily basis (maybe a little more on the weekend). You can give that to me. I don’t limit what else you are allowed to do on the weekends — although I am going to have to rein in screen time. On Saturday you spent nearly 6 hours on screens. That can’t keep happening. An hour to help me and your daddy around the house is not too much to ask.

3. You will not use the words “slave” or “slavery” in this house. The United States has a long and shameful history of real slavery, of people driven and tortured because they were viewed as lesser beings. That’s not what is happening when I ask you to do chores. You are part of a team, not someone used and abused for labor. So knock it off with the hyperbole.


My MIL comes over once a week (sometimes twice) to help the girls put their clean laundry away, and to help them clean up their room.

And by help, I mean that she tells them what to do and they do it.

When this happens, I do not hear whinging from the girls’ room. I do not hear the word, “No.” She guides them through what they are supposed to do, they do it, and in about a half hour or so, they are done.

I don’t know how she does it. Maybe she threatens them. Maybe she bribes them. Maybe she just tells them, “This is how you are a good citizen in this house.” No idea. I’m usually in the kitchen finishing the dishes (the girls are not yet adept at washing the dishes by hand).

I am grateful for this help from my MIL. I don’t know what I would do without her. I sincerely hope the girls are internalizing her guidance so they know and understand how to clean their rooms *without* someone standing over them telling them what to do.

My girls like when their room is neat. They are proud of themselves for making it look that way. So why do they do it for Bella, and not for me?

Bella and Kate
They clean their room for her!


I get *so tired* of fighting the fight, I really do. I understand parents who pick up after their children. It’s faster, and gets done “right”. Believe me, I am the OCD parent of three children, and as much as I want things to be “just so”, I have started settling for “good enough”. As long as the floor is clear, and the vacuum can be run, and things are where they are supposed to live, I’m good. The dishes aren’t always put away perfectly, or put in the dishwasher the way I would load it, but I don’t care. It’s something I didn’t have to do.

And that’s a big deal.

Children and me.
Deceptively adorable.

Do your children have chores? Do you still fight with them about doing them?

Random Thoughts: The 50 Shades of Grey Edition

First, some disclaimers: I did not read 50 Shades of Grey, nor did I see the movie, and I have no intentions to do either. It’s not because I’m a cultured snob, either. The reviews are negative, and it seems many people are engaging in what is called “hate-reading” — a habit I don’t understand (ditto hate-watching — life’s too short, people). My understanding is the book is terribly written. I can’t read terribly written books.

I do not live a BDSM lifestyle, so my speculations about it are simply that: pure speculation.


My understanding is that the portrayal of the lifestyle in the books and movie isn’t BDSM, it’s straight up abusive: stalking, isolating, using drugs and alcohol to influence “consent”.

I think one of the biggest misrepresentations of the BDSM lifestyle that comes from this movie and/or book is this: The reluctance of the submissive.

From what I have gleaned from book and movie reviews, Anastasia Steele has a lot of misgivings about being Mr. Grey’s submissive.

We want to think that submissive people don’t really want to be THAT submissive. We are more willing to think that they feel demeaned or have doubts about submitting. And I don’t think that’s the case. A true submissive can only feel sexual excitement by submitting. That may be difficult to grasp for people who don’t understand BDSM. We think it has to be non-consensual — that the sub is being pressured to do it.

No, a sub freely chooses it. She (for the sake of brevity) submits because that is what is sexually exciting and fulfilling. She’s not doing it to heal her lover (as in the 50 Shades books) or because it’s a game the two are playing, and saying yes even when she wants to say no is her role.

I’m also pretty sure that dominants, as a rule, aren’t mean people or bullies. You don’t get to slap your wife or boyfriend around and claim it’s okay because you’re a dom. That’s not how that works. There’s a very specific sexual fulfillment that comes from being a dominant and having a willing submissive. It’s not an abusive relationship.


According an academic who has studied the books –how’s that for a career track? — (and now the movie), “[Ana] tells [Christian] she feels demeaned, debased, and abused, and he says, ‘Well, you need to embrace those feelings and deal with them the way a real submissive would.'” A real submissive wouldn’t feel demeaned or debased or abused by what her dom wants to do. This is the difference between actual consent and what is portrayed in 50 Shades.


I also think we are focused on the wrong fantasy. The media trope was that bored housewives were reading this, and taking it to their husbands or lovers to spice things up. However, the biggest purveyors of 50 Shades were women between the ages of 18 and 34.

I think the fantasy is two-fold: The ages old “savior” fantasy. “I will cure this damaged person through the power of my life-saving and unique love.” Which I think does end up happening in 50 Shades. And the Prince Charming fantasy, with a twist: “A young, rich, hot man will find me irresistible, and will do anything to be with me. In exchange for a few spankings, he will take me away from all this drudgery (i.e. work) and I will live in a palace for the rest of my life.”

So, arguably, 50 Shades of Grey is no more damaging than Disney princess movies, where a knight on a white horse rides in to save the day.

Oh, wait.

50 Shades of Grey cover

Are you a 50 Shades fan? Why or why not?

Incidentally, I have no bones with people who have read or seen (or want to read or see) 50 Shades of Grey and the series of books that follow. To each her/his own, seriously. I’m not judging you for reading or watching anything — or for practicing BDSM for that matter. As long as everything’s consensual, all right?

Welcome to the 21st Century!

The measles outbreak in the United States and the various conversations swirling around it are driving me crazy.

By the early 21st century, measles was practically eradicated. And now, already in 2015, 84 people have been diagnosed with measles (due largely to the outbreak in Disney Land).

I mean…

“• The majority of the people who got measles were unvaccinated.
“• Measles is still common in many parts of the world including some countries in Europe, Asia, the Pacific, and Africa.
“• Travelers with measles continue to bring the disease into the U.S.
“• Measles can spread when it reaches a community in the U.S. where groups of people are unvaccinated.”*

*From the CDC website.

There were over 600 cases of measles in the United States last year.

Please vaccinate your children. If you think you need a booster, please talk to your own doctor.


The media conversation seems to center around the thoroughly debunked Wakefield study. But I see a different trend on Facebook and in article comments. (I know. Never read the comments. And yet.)

1. Vaccines are full of poison!
This school of thought lists all the scary-sounding things that allegedly make up vaccines — aluminum, formaldehyde, mercury (not true anyway), and so on. The simple rebuttal to this is: the dose makes the poison. Given the minute amounts of these ingredients in vaccines — many of them naturally occurring in other things that we put into or onto our bodies — this gains no traction with me. If you’re alarmed about these ingredients, please have a talk with your pediatrician.

2. The government is going to force me to vaccinate my children!
Yeah, they kind of should. I am pretty solidly behind the idea that the government is allowed to dictate certain things for the larger public good. All children should be vaccinated if they are going to go to school. For those that have a documented medical reason for not being able to be vaccinated, it’s the only way to give them any kind of protection. This conspiracy-type thinking pretty much drives me up the wall. If you don’t want to get your child vaccinated, then don’t send him/her to school. If you are so distrustful of the government and/or the medical establishment, maybe you need to talk to someone with a Ph.D after their name. Seriously, the government doesn’t want to harm your children; it is not trying to indoctrinate them via Big Pharma.

Relatedly, this is the tactic that Republican law makers — some of whom are going to run for president in the next year — are now employing. They aren’t anti-vaccine! They are pro-parental choice! Tell you what, once they stop fighting against access for women’s reproductive choice and healthcare, I’ll let them give parents the choice of vaccinating their children. How’s that?


Look, I get it. When my children were being born, the autism scare/Wakefield study bunk was at its height. My husband saw severely delayed children on a daily basis. The story was scarily the same: normal development until the MMR shot. When it came time to vaccinate Flora, he asked to space out her shots. We did a ton of reading and research together (very little of it online, thank God). I was 100 percent pro-vaccine. I did talk to the pediatrician’s office about spacing out the shots. We came to an agreement that made my husband comfortable.

Fast forward a few years to when Kate was getting vaccinated. My husband sat down with the pediatrician at the time (same organization, different office than with Flora), and that doctor talked to him at length, openly, honestly, and without being condescending. My husband and I are smart, educated people, who wanted to participate in our children’s care, not just take edicts from “on high”.

Kate got the full complement of vaccines that she was scheduled for that day. M, too, has been fully vaccinated, mostly on schedule (there were times he was ill at a checkup, and we returned later to get him caught up).

Educating parents like Dan — parents who were scared, who saw things and dealt with things highly suspect in terms of timing — those are the parents we can reach. Dan and I had the added terror of having actually lost a child already — not at all related to medicine or vaccinations, but still.

Parenting is not for the faint of heart. Especially now, in the Internet age, when everyone is enabled with a platform for his or her opinion, backed up with sites like Natural News and the National Vaccine Information Center.

Talk to your pediatrician. That’s the best advice.

And vaccinate your children. For the good of all the children.

My cheeseball
Michael thanks you for your vaccination.

Hands Up, Don’t Shoot

This morning, all three of my children had nutella toast.

Two of my three children bit their bread into the shape of guns, and shot me.

My boy said, “Mom, hands up.”

I put my hands up.


“Michael,” I scolded. “You can’t shoot once someone puts their hands up.”

I can’t believe those words came out of my mouth this morning.

Seems like really basic stuff.

I don’t pretend to understand what white men with guns see when they see black boys. I am stunningly naive about racism. I really have to get over this. So I can talk about it with my children.

So that they don’t shoot when someone has their hands up.


In lieu of me being able to do anything except cry, I’m sharing this with you.

A Mother’s White Privilege


I posted this to my Facebook as well, prior to the grand jury decision in Ferguson:

As a mom who has struggles with this, I’m glad someone took the time to write this post.

What I want my children to know about being white in America

The other night, M and I were looking at a picture of something. There was a little African American girl in the image. “I don’t like brown girls,” M said. I was stunned.

We talked about it, as much as you can talk about this kind of thing with an almost 4-year-old.

“Brown children aren’t different than white children.” “Don’t you like Brandon? And your teacher Heavan?” Both “brown” people at M’s daycare. “It’s okay not to like a brown crayon. It’s not okay to not like brown people because they are brown.”

It was calm on both our parts. M agreed that he liked Heavan and Brandon. But, man. Start early. Don’t be colorblind. Color matters.


And this is the song that happens in my head when this shit goes down.

I know no one cares about my opinion on this. But staying silent doesn’t work for me. Not about this.

Thinking Aloud: About Street Harassment

If you haven’t been under a rock this week, you’ve probably seen the video of the young woman walking in New York City. They recorded 10 hours of her walking, and edited it down to showcase men speaking at her.

I will say upfront that I do find the video problematic because the majority of men trying to engage with the women are black or Latino. Many people are glomming onto that fact.

I’ll tell you right now: White men do it too.

As a young woman, I lived on the South Side of Pittsburgh. As a young woman, I was regularly harassed on the the street: yells from cars, greetings from men I didn’t know, cat-called, followed, etc. etc. The majority of these men were white. Some were saying, “Hello! How are you?” Some were commenting on my assets (usually my legs). I can’t remember it being welcome. Even on the days when I was feeling attractive and flirty and had on a cute skirt. Random comments from men I didn’t know were not validating.

I’ve seen a lot of men on Twitter, on Facebook, in the comment of articles talking about this video protesting. “Saying ‘hello’ is harassment?” “My mother taught me to be polite.” “Asking someone how they are doing is wrong?”

If a person walking along greets every person he passes, or who passes him, I would say that’s not necessarily harassment. As long as one is greeting every Tom, Dick, and Harriet that he sees — fine. He’s just trying to be a nice guy.

But if I have walked 10 blocks, and twice on every block — or even once on each block — have heard some man I don’t know trying to engage with me, whether it was “hi” or “Smile!” or “What are you doing later, baby?” By the time I get to an innocent “how are you today?” I’m annoyed and feeling harassed.

Here’s the line: Is it about her or is it about the speaker? When a woman is walking along, lost in thought, by herself, why does someone feel the need to speak to her? Because it’s not about her. It’s about the speaker. He wants her attention, even for an instant. He wants to snap her out of her self-introspection for a second of feedback from her. Not necessarily harassment, but definitely irritating.

I can’t believe that street harassment works as a method to meet women or get a date. If that is the defense of the strategy — I’m not buying it. Has that ever happened? Does saying, “hey, baby,” to random women on the street score the caller a phone number? A hook up?

It is also about what happens after the attempted engagement. Does the speaker call after her again? “Hey, I said hi!” “Don’t you want to look pretty?” “Bitch!” That clearly crosses the line into harassment.

Does he follow her for any amount of time? That’s full-blown creep. (Did you see the alarm on that woman’s face when that man walked beside her for five minutes? I was scared for her.)

Here’s the thing. If you don’t think the way you engage with women in public spaces is a problem, please check yourself. Do you engage with everyone the same way? Why are you going to engage with someone you don’t know? Is it about you, and seeking validation?

Because if it is, you’re part of the problem.

If you have no expectations from the encounter, it may be okay, and the problem may be with the woman, who has probably been spoken to several times already. Just keep that in mind, too, next time you want to say hi to a pretty stranger. You’re probably not the first.

ETA: Think about the woman being your wife or daughter or sister. Is it still okay with you?


image source

Like a Girl

Flora can tread water for two minutes.

Kate can eat five tacos.

Flora is the fastest runner on her soccer team.

Kate helps her little brother with his chores.

Flora knows more about birds than most adults.

Kate is a wonderful baker.

Flora can jump rope for five minutes.

Kate rides her bike so fast, she leaves the ground when she hits a dip in the driveway. She has more bruises than any 7-year-old I know.

I know it’s a commercial — and for things that only girls will need — but they’ve got a point.

Let’s stop saying “like a girl” like it’s a bad thing. I never heard “like a girl” growing up. I heard about how smart I was, how strong I was, how I could do or be anything I wanted.

My girls are fast, strong, smart, immensely talented, not to mention beautiful. They can conquer the world. Dan and I will do our very best to set them and keep them on a path to success, one that nurtures their strengths and grows their talents.

The world is just going to have to stay out of their way.

What can the girls in your world do?