Junior Police or Junior Feminist?

Greta: Mom, can girls be polices?

Me: Yes, Greta. There are women police officers.

Greta: Because the police who came to my school is a boy. He's not a girl police.

Me: Yes. That's just one person. Some of the police are women. In fact, didn't you get a badge? It says Junior Police on it. You are a junior police.

Greta: (going berzerk in volume, expression, and gestures): I'm a police. I'm a police. I'm a police.


Yes. Greta is a badge-carrying member of the Junior Police force of A.H. It has been interesting to see what exactly she thinks that means. She does recall that the police (her choice of an inappropriate plural, my choice to not correct) talked to her about, "safety and UNsafety." She knows that going with strangers in "unsafety."

And, that's where the practical application of this obviously thrilling visit from a police officer to her pre-school class ends. The rest of her energies in playing Junior police have been focused on elaborate rescuing. I like to think that the police officer did not tell the children that, "sometimes I rescue mommies and daddies who are dead." More likely, this sprouted out of a vivid three-year-old imagination. Yesterday, I could hear her yelling at her toys, "A bus is driving and a one-year-old boy fall out of the bus. He is out of the bus. The polices are going to rescue him." I'm choosing to view this as Greta's fantasy of being a hero, and not her fantasy of an infortunate demise of a certain adorable one-year-old boy (cough: Graham).

I have to add that I'm thrilled that the game that we are playing is police/ rescue and not stranger/ kidnap. (Pause while I knock on wood.) When Greta saw Sleeping Beauty this summer she delighted in acting out the story. The cast of characters were Sleeping Beauty: Mommy, Prince: Dad, or anyone else around, not excluding the cat, Maleficent: Greta, Maleficent's black crow: Graham. Admittedly, I had a hand in the crow casting because I pointed out that Graham could caw well (he could). To this day, Greta tells me that her favorite "guy" in Sleeping Beauty is Maleficent.

Should I worry? I have to admit that concern bubbles up when recollecting Maleficent transforming into a giant fire-breathing dragon and spouting, "Now, shall you deal with ME, O Prince - and all the powers of HELL! AHAHAHAHAHA, AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" That's not so unlike Greta during a tantrum, which is scary. Then again, I was the mother who wasn't going to allow my daughter to watch the misogynistic Disney princesses. So, shouldn't I applaud this outright rejection of the pansy-ass Aurora? Granted, I would prefer her to adore the three bumbling fairies, but this Maleficent-love is better than identifying with a girl whose main role is to touch a needle and sleep. Ugh. Andyet, I spin out of control worrying. What's next? She'll watch _Little House on the Prarie_ with me . . . and love Nellie Olsen. She'll read _Pride and Prejudice_ . . . and profess her love for Wickham. She'll wish that Goneril and Regan were her girlfriends so that they can commisserate over their horrible parents. It truly pains me.

But, now I feel there is hope of turning this trainride around. Thank the LORD for women polices.

I'm DEFINITELY voting for Hillary.