Today, BratzBasher is eleven years old. I thought I’d commemorate this momentous occasion by telling one of my favorite BratzBasher stories: The Aborigini.
BratzBasher had a bit of a nudity problem when she hit the terrible twos. She refused to get dressed. Merkin finally took to calling her an aborigini. BB hated it. She didn’t want to be called anything she couldn’t pronounce. The “aborigini method” was a very successful way to get her clothed.
“I’m not a aborigini!”
“Then put your panties on.”
While enjoying an adventure to the art museum, BratzBasher spotted one of those armless, nude statues that you inevitably find in every art museum. She pointed it out and said, “Poor aborigini. She’s got no arms to pull her panties up.”
Merkin invented a game to teach our daughter modest dress standards. While out on daddy/daughter adventures they would rate people’s outfits as they walked by; thumbs up for modest outfits, and thumbs down for immodest. BratzBasher loved this game. In fact, she changed from brazen streaker into very vocal advocate for modesty.
Merkin liked to take BratzBasher to the mall for lunch because he could get her a happy meal at McDonald’s and then get real food for himself at the Panda Express just across the court. (We both did a happy dance when BB discovered orange chicken and turned her back on McDonald’s for good. Anyway…) Daddy and daughter were both sitting at a table in front of the McDonald’s counter when Merkin noticed that BratzBasher kept turning around to look at a teenaged boy behind her. He was wearing the typical oversized jeans — so baggy that you can see a good six inches of boxer shorts — and was trying to chat up the cute girl at the register. The blatant display of his unmentionables was really starting to bother BratzBasher. Finally, she turned around, stood up on her chair, pointed her finger at the boy, and said, “Pull your pants up! Your panties are showing!” Then she calmly turned around and went back to her fries, satisfied that he’d been properly chastised. The cute girl at the register (as well as everyone within hearing distance) starting laughing, and the boy pulled his pants up and held them in place as he slunk away in complete and utter embarrassment.
BratzBasher still feels very strongly about modest dress in public, but she’s not so vocal about it these days. Toddlers can get away with a lot more than their elders. Shame, really. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to tell people to pull their pants up, or button up their shirts, or put a bra on.
HAPPY 11th BIRTHDAY, BRATZBASHER!
Can I be just like you when I grow up?