Baby needs a new set of clothes

My daughter turned ten months old this week.  Our first child.  Parenthood at 40 is a lot more work and a lot less sleep than I imagined, but it's so worth it.  Sure, we could have opted for the 60 inch HDTV and the condo in Cabo, but no tv will look at you with a big smile and say, "I love you, Daddy".  Not without pay-per-view, anyway.

Being an older firsttime parent does have its advantages, though.  Friends and family were eager to give us their outgrown, but perfectly good baby gear:  clothes, cribs, carseats, binkies, boppies, breastpumps, we have it all.  But the strange thing about baby clothes for girls is that they're mostly always pink.  Pink dresses, pink pajamas, pink shoes, pink socks, pink, pink, pink. 

Now don’t get me wrong…I’m very grateful for their overwhelming generosity. But somehow I hoped my daughter's indoctrination into societal gender roles wouldn’t have to begin from day 1.

The Rules:
Boys wear blue. Girls wear pink.

Boys play with trucks. Girls play with dolls.

Boys are aggressive. Girls are passive.

Boys are rational. Girls are emotional.

I don’t think so. I want my daughter to wear any color, play any game, pursue any interest, and be whoever she wants to be, regardless of tradition.

Daddy's little rebel.

Just so long as she does all her chores, gets a 4.0 GPA, plays varsity tennis and basketball, makes editor of the school paper, first chair in marching band, wins student body president, and never drinks or goes out on dates until she’s 21.