Go Ahead . . . Make My Day

Pardon the mixed metaphor (or whatever you'd call it) . . . I know none of these unpleasantly dispositioned movie characters ever said that . . . but I'm sure each of them lit up the screen with something appropriate to my current mood.

No more than 5 minutes after daughter #2 comes home to tell me that one of the 'populars' -- I'll just refer to her as the Bully Bitch -- shoved a cupcake up her nose, my wife calls just in time to stop me from e-mailing her teachers to demand Bully Bitch's head on a platter.

However, she tells me that daughter #1 just called her to share the conversation with her ex-boyfriend in which he expressed his burning desire 'to be truthful:' For the two years they dated (and pretty much co-habitated during their year at Tech), he continued to see his previous girlfriend.

For those of you picking up the phone to dial 9-1-1, no need to worry. I don't own any guns or sharp knives . . . but I don't think a spineless piece of lying wormshit has the balls to castrate anyway.

As for the Bully Bitch, daughter #2 has some pretty sharp claws.

Whew! Glad we could talk.

In This Corner, Wearing Calico Whiskers . . .

Revised recommended reading list for 10-year-old girls:

- The Art of War by Sun Tzu
- On War by Carl von Clausewitz

And then some book about cats . . .

It's fifth grade, and the cat-fights have started. Yesterday's best friend is in tears. Something about last month's best friend and the two Populars, or Plastics depending on the Disney movie you just watched, acknowledged bitches and leading candidates for Britney-hood.

She said, then I said and she laughed, then she came over, and I went over, then we laughed and she cried; I didn't mean to but they made me and said this, then I said, but before I could, she went and I didn't, but they did . . . and that was just on the phone while I was still at work.

Daughter #1 is nine years older than daughter #2. The heavyweight cat fights didn't start until seventh grade then, but as girls have become better trained and more catlike and the malls and movies and TV offers more catty opportunities, the title matches have dropped to the fifth grade.

Daughter #1 was pretty callous, when necessary; and at the drop of a 'you're not my friend anymore,' she would casually reply 'see ya' and walk away. In a day or two, they were friends some more. Daughter #2 has a harder facade and, as a result of having an older sister, is a little more savvy at 10 than her sister.

Fortunately in real life, but unfortunately in the cat wars, daughter #2 is very sensitive. If she accidentally hurts a friend, she is devastated,. Like her older sister, she is tolerant of just about anybody, which attracts guerilla cat fighters waiting for the opportunity to pounce on the weak and unsuspecting. And when the pipe bomb of non-Hollister clothes or Target shoes or last week's music explodes, daughter #2 and soon-to-be-victim friends are caught in the crossfire.

The hardest part for my wife and me is to avoid giving proven advice: 'Walk up to her and slap the holy shit out her!'

So, instead, we counsel and cuddle and help make amends with hurt friends, then we walk into our room and:

We're NOT ready for this.

Addendum: when we asked daughter #1 to give advice to daughter #2 on dealing with girls, she said; 'Hang out with boys.'