I know NOTHING about girls anymore. I mean, *I* am a girl. So I know a little about that, but I’m LOST when it comes to the world of little girls. As in, the daughters of my friends. Also known as Dylan’s bitches.

We spent the morning/afternoon (it kind of got away from us) with Hannah, her daughter Emma, and baby Andrew, our friend Heather, her daughter Isabelle and son Landon. And there was all sorts of girl shit going on. There was talk of Polly Pockets (?!) and there were My Little Pony’s coming out the wazoo.

Dylan was just stoked to be playing with ponies, I don’t think he got the whole magical world thing, and I think all the talk about the Crystal Meth Castle went right over his head.  I sat there and listened to Hannah and Heather have a discussion about all this shit and I’m pretty sure my eyes glazed over and I started drooling.  Because, really?  I have no fucking clue what they’re talking about and I really couldn’t care less.

I was actually RELIEVED when Dylan came across a Thomas the Tank Engine train set because that was something I could relate to.  Which is CRAZY to me, because growing up I was ALL about this girlie crap.  I fawned over my dolls, dutifully dressed, undressed and redressed my multitudes of Barbie’s, could name every Care Bear ever created and don’t even get me STARTED on Cabbage Patch Kids.

So where did it all go so terribly wrong?  Probably when I grew two boys in my womb and absorbed untold amounts of testosterone (just ask the hair on my upper lip).  I somehow lost my inner little girl.

But, I really can’t blame her for running as fast as possible in the other direction.  I mean, now I’m surrounded by penis’, trucks, trains, farts, ninja moves and dirt.  What little girl is into THAT?

Oh well, I really don’t miss her all that much*, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

*She was kind of a pain in the ass.

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