Remember this post? A more recent conversation:
Anna: Mom, I want a Bratz doll on my birthday list.
Me: No, Anna. I don’t like Bratz dolls.
Anna: Why?
Me: They just don’t look like they have Jesus in them. (Judgmental. Pharasaical. I know. It’s all I could pull out on such short notice.)
After this conversation, Anna did what all children do when one parent says no.
Anna: Dad, can I have a Bratz doll for my birthday?
Kris: Sure, honey.
Upon hearing this discourse from the living room, I inquired:
Me: Kris, what did Anna just ask you?
Kris: She said she wanted a rat dog for her birthday, and I told her okay.
The fact that Anna wants a Bratz doll no longer concerns me I’m now worried that her father would let her have a rat dog.
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