Binkies and Briefcases

What do you hate?

Like, if there was just one thing that you could wipe off the face of the earth, what would it be?

I hate stupid girls.

More accurately, I hate girls who act stupid when they really are not because they think it will get them somewhere.

I hate it even more when that actually works.

I am NOT a stupid girl. You probably wouldn’t know it by the sentence fragments and misuse of commas on this blog, but I actually went to college on a full academic scholarship and graduated a year early, then stayed and earned my Master’s degree in my fourth year at school. I graduated with a 3.89 undergrad GPA and a 3.9 on my graduate work.

I chose to do my schooling at a women’s college that chose to live by the phrase “Educate a woman, educate a nation.”

And now I have two gorgeous daughters and they are pretty smart cookies if I do say so myself.

The other night I was sitting with my four-year-old and playing a learning game on the iPad. It was meant for younger kids and was too easy for her. This is the girl who likes to stand over her older brother’s shoulder while he’s doing his homework and shout the answers before he can figure them out. She was supposed to count how many of each kind of animal came on the screen. The first several times she did it correctly, but then she got bored. She started saying the wrong number on purpose and she thought it was hysterical.

“Three!” laughs “Look, Mommy, there are three zebras, right? I only see three” (There are really five.)

“That’s not funny.”

“Heeeeheeeeheee. There are only three, right? I can only count to three.” (She can count much higher.)

She thought this was hilarious. I thought it was frightening. Is it possible that it could be ingrained in her this early that it is cool to act dumber than you are?

“That’s not funny. Acting dumb is never funny. Girls who act dumb are very, very stupid. And you, my dear, are NOT a stupid girl. You’re a smart one. Do you understand?” (Yeah, I read Carol Dwek. The research says I shouldn’t tell her she’s smart. The research can shove it.)

“Yes, Mommy. Look, there are five zebras.”

“Good job honey! Do you want to play a different game?”

“Yeah, this one is too easy. Let’s play Candy Crush.”

And we did. We crushed it. Because that’s what we do.

We’re SMART girls and I don’t intend to let my daughters forget it.