Thanks for Asking
My very best pull-up
When I was a kid, we were the family on the block where the kids are always on the roof for some reason. I remember one time my dad brought us up there to show us a tornado. My father is quite fascinated by twisters. I remember living through two ‘nados and both times Dad risked life and limb to get a better glimpse of the thing. After seeing the Helen Hunt, Bill Paxton adventure, I wondered what it would be like to be the daughter of a storm chaser. I’d eat halves of sandwiches in the back of a Bronco, navigating while listening to dad rock and watching the clouds shift. Which is, now that I think about it, my exact childhood. I don’t know about you ladies but I know what it’s like to have grown up with a dad who thinks you’d be interested in fishing, riding dirt bikes, and getting in general very dusty.
It’s amazing, not having the expectation to be the girl, my parents already had one of those. Being the third kid is great, your parents are too tired and too busy hustling for that extra baby cash to remember to raise you. Your gender expectations fly out the window along with discipline, teaching you about money, and any attempt to fill out a baby book.
No, I learned my gender expectations from movies and pop culture. Mandy Moore taught me that as a woman, outside of wearing Godly sweaters and having cancer, taking a chance on the bad boy is your personality. Julia Roberts taught me that frizzy haired, conniving, wonderfully flawed women are always the best friend and never the bride. Big Comfy Couch taught me that silly girls have to live in train cars. It wasn’t all bad. The Spice Girls taught me that there are at least five different types of women.
The following is a pro/con list of being raised with fewer gender expectations.
Pros:
-Don’t have a ‘My Mom called me a slut’ story. (Partially because I was (am) prude af)
-I was never betrothed to Billy Zane.
-Can kinda drive truck/ dirt bike/ water ski/ forklift/ tonka truck/ stick shift
-Allowed to have neutral favorite color, green.
-Low beauty expectations. Any half assed curl = wow factor
-Never thought I’d die without a vampire
-Boyfriend jeans
-Get to eat on camping trips (Teach a kid to fish)
-Pizza is ON limits
-Can eat whole burger
-Will make good zombie (Morning hair confirms)
-Do have a sledding roof------>front lawn, story
Jumping roof ------> trampoline
Sledding top of stairs-------->basement laundry room
Shooting bow and arrow-------->backyard fence
-knife knowledge
Cons:
-Was never betrothed to Billy Zane
-Was expected to dig holes and cut wood
-Do have a ‘Mom called me an asshole story’. There’s a difference. (I was an asshole)
-Running with eyes closed------->barbed wire fence
-Must carry heavy things (Boobs)
-Never got to reenact favorite movie, Motocross. (Was allowed to ride a dirt bike.)
-Can’t blow dry hair for shit
-No dowry collected at wedding. (What the fuck’s a dowry? That’s where you pay the bride right? Must research.)
-No one ever used my bra as a slingshot or trebuchet. But you know, be the change..
Honestly, It was just nice to be included in the boy stuff.
Now, my Dad wants to talk about cars. It’s not something I would choose to do on my own, but it’s nice to be asked. Like when you have a mostly full drink and the bartender asks if you want another, not yet but it’s nice to be asked. Like when Shane West asks if you own another sweater. When anyone gets consent, before you throw out my rotting food, if I want that mustache tattoo, if I want mayo on my burrito, if the hills have eyes, how many fingers you’re holding up, it’s nice to be asked. Like when the army recruiter asks if you want to try the pull up bar, um I think you’re making fun of me but it’s nice to be asked. Thanks for asking.