-I'm unclear as to what a pollywog is
-I'm ignorant of most of the rules of baseball, football, soccer, and, hell, badminton
-I throw like a girl
-My husband throws like a girl
-I haven't the first clue how to play GI Joe
-I don't want anything called a "Megazord" in my house
-Power Rangers make me throw up in my mouth a little
-I'm very unsure about proper little boy hygeine
-I don't care to learn to fish
-I am markedly unenthusiastic about finding worms and other bugs in my son's pockets while standing in front of the washer
But, on the other hand, I am still nervous about these things with Bean:
-I had better make peace with Barbie, because those little Bratz whores aren't stepping one plastic foot into this house.
-My ability to compete against the Disney Princess brand
-Are you really supposed to stick your pinky out at a tea party? And seriously, would Miss Manners approve of wearing a tiara before sunset?
-If she plays soccer, does that make me a soccer mom by default?
-Junior high queen bees, and what to do if she is one
-When she turns twelve and EVIL
-When she turns twelve and I move to Mexico
-Oh my God, what if she becomes a CHEERLEADER? Fuuuuuuck.
-Dating (oh, ack.)
This parenting thing isn't for wimps.