Moonbat Intelligentsia Calls for Boys to Be Dressed in Princess Costumes

No need to worry about the coming apocalypse. When you find an article entitled, “Why You Should Buy Your Little Boy a Princess Costume” in Forbes magazine, you know it has already arrived.

The twisted exercise in political correctness denounces the concept of linking sex with gender, extols childhood “gender fluidity,” praises a woman for taking her 3-year-old son out and about dressed in a princess Halloween costume, and wraps up by crowing in triumph,

[M]en who’ve remained rigid and “cardboard” in their traditional, breadwinning roles, haven’t fared as well as women who adapt more easily, and now, in many cases, surpass their spouses in the new social and economic order.

Liberals will not rest until they have socially engineered future generations to conform to their own grotesque image. Already we have entered a world in which John Wayne has given way to Tom Hanks, and Rita Hayworth to Rosie O’Donnell.

I have a four-year old son. Since he was able to hold a toy, he has been fascinated with cars or anything with wheels. Then, as well as now, everything is a car. A car is a car. A box is a car. A lego man is something to get run over by a car. A stick is a car or a road if it's too long to be a car. If we are running around in the back yard, we are cars. If he's in the tub and he's gotten in trouble for splashing water out of the tub and all of his toys (cars, of course) have been removed as punishment, his hands are cars. He will say, "Watch, Daddy," and run his hands into each other and one will flip over, all while making 'Crash' sounds. Of course, he tells me the hand that wrecked was me and the wrecker was him.

Granted, he had a lot of Matchbox and Hot Wheels cars that were mine and several that were his older brother's (who was more into Legos than cars), but he had other toys, too. This obsession or passion for cars is all him. If you ask him what he wants for his birthday, it's "Cars!" If you have to bribe him with something, it's a car. Instead of talking about what he wants to be when he grows up, he talks about what cars he's going to have (3 limos and a Hummer. Sometimes 3 Hummers and a limo). He has, literally, over 300 Hot Wheels cars at our house and probably that many at his grandparents, who often keep him. He can tell you what every single one of them is, and usually where it came from. He can tell the make of every car on the road. At first, he would pick out the emblems, but now it's headlights and taillights and rooflines and many models as well as makes.

Of course, he also puts on his mother's fuzzy pink slippers and walks around in them, but I'm going to leave that one alone for now; he's just trying to be funny.

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