I took Jorie to the library the other day. The library is one of our families favorite places to go and we have easily been there 300 times since we moved to Vermillion three years ago. Feeling brave, I asked Jorie if she would like to split up...she could find 3 books and I could find 3 books for her. After a very excited "yes!", she ran off to find her 3 selections. I, in my attempt to influence Jorie to become a strong, smart, level-headed career woman who is filled with love and compassion and fights crime ninja-style on the weekends, head to the biography section. I find an Eleanor Roosevelt biography, a Rosa Parks biography and a book about woman baseball players (think A Leauge of Thier Own).
We meet up a few moments later. The anticipation is killing her. She tells me to go first. Her enthusiasm about my choices is underwhelming. Like slump her shoulders and ask if I can try again underwhelming. I ask her what she picked and she perks up. "Mom, I only got one book because this is thebestbookinthewhole library!!" She slowly starts moving the book toward me. I am blinded by the florescent pink and sparkles. "The Princess Handbook...A Girls Guide to All Things Princess" is staring back at me. She beams, my head explodes.
Later that day, I hear Jorie in her room. I go peek through the crack in the door and I see her practicing her tae-kwon-do. Front kick. Block. Knife hand strike. I ask her what she is doing. "Kicking some butt.", she says.
There is hope.
