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Yesterday was my...19th? Pretty sure it was 19th, anniversary. Considering the fact that both Man Friend and I openly said we weren't going to date each other (or anyone) when we met, that's pretty funny. We were both in a rough spot in our lives when we met and trying to be sensible about things. I was taking a break from dating because I recognized that I had been making extremely poor dating choices. In fact, Man Friend had to ask my best friend, Porkchop, permission to date me when we got around to it. I'd handed control over to her since my judgment clearly couldn't be trusted. She still warns him that she can rescind her support at any time if she decides he's not treating me right. Ha!

(Porkchop's real name is Devon, by the way. We decided at work one day to give everyone meat-themed nicknames. She calls me Meat Loaf, or her Sweet Loafy. This was extra funny to us at the time because we were both vegetarian. Yes, my friends are weird, but in the best possible way.)

Anyway, for our anniversary Man Friend got me this tiny tree. The tag attached tells me it is a Madagascar Monolith. I think it looks like something out of a video game. Instagram helped me pick a name yesterday, so he is officially called Horatio Leopold VonDeku. Horatio is keeping me company in the Murder Shack and I'm quite pleased with him.

A fun story to tell you about today's chapter--in it, Lena recounts a childhood annecdote. It is...very close to something that happened to me. I grew up with three brothers. All of my cousins growing up were male until my cousin Megan was born when I was fourteen. I eventually got a few other female cousins when various step-aunties remarried when I was older, but my family was very lopsided, gender-wise. I was also the youngest until I was twelve. We grew up in the woods, and I followed my brothers around in the time honored tradition of obnoxious younger siblings. Which meant that most of the things I wanted to do or play were the kinds of things my brothers were into. I wore a lot of their hand-me-downs, climbed trees, got dirty, and often came home bleeding. (We were basically feral.)

I didn't understand the attraction to most "girl" toys. Oh, there were exceptions. I was all over horses, my little ponies, and cabbage patch kids. But I also loved Star Wars, the A-team, garbage pail kids, transformers, and so forth. My mom and stepmom were great about letting kids play with the toys they wanted, not the toys that are often dictated by specific gender roles. The problem was, I was the only girl in the family. A lot of extended family wanted SO BADLY to buy me pink clothes and frilly things and they were sorely disappointed, but usually found a middle ground.

The one toy I couldn't understand the attraction of? Barbie. I'd been given one at some point and I gave it to the cat to chew on. The cat was pleased, I was happy, everyone was a winner.

I have been very lucky in my step-families over the years. So much so that I tend to keep them even after the marriage has ended, which is why it takes a color-coded diagram for people to understand how my family works. None of them have ever treated me like a step-kid. With one shining example. One specific set of step-grandparents made it very, very clear that they weren't interested in accepting us into the fold. They already had a granddaughter and they loved her, and that was enough. Which is totally fine, honestly. I have enough family. I was only a year or two younger than their granddaughter, and they sort of assumed that I liked the same things that she did. (Reader, I did not.) I did not enjoy faux pearls, jewelry in general, or barbies. But I had been raised to be polite. When someone gives you a gift, you say thank you and move on.

One year, they bought me a knock-off...I think it was a Skipper doll? That was a doll, right? My mom said I tried so hard to be polite and say thank you but the look on my face...she had to leave the room because she was trying so hard not to laugh. And yes, I did cut the doll's hair and my brothers and I drew all over her. She didn't stay pretty long. I mean, we had an ongoing indoor baseball game for rainy day fun where we routinely used the head of a doll for the ball. This should not have been a surprise to anyone who had met me for more than five seconds.

I have no problem with girls--or any kid--playing with dolls, if the child WANTS TO PLAY WITH DOLLS. I have bought dolls for my nieces if they asked for them. But having been on the receiving end of, "Oh, you're a girl so you MUST love this" gift giving strategy for years, I refuse to perpetuate it. 

Anyway, that's where Lena's story comes from. I hope you enjoy it, and that you're all staying safe and healthy out there.

Kindest regards from me and Horatio.

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