Guia Do Pokemon Sound Silver

March 8, carnival

Today I decided to keep a low profile. I know it's International Women's Day and I should say something clever about it, but on this blog every day is International Women's Day (Blog only, however). I just spontaneously comes out that, in this very sensitive period for the female gender, destiny willed relentlessly, partially obscuring the festival, superimposed on Shrove Tuesday, which, with its commercial value and disengagement, will certainly have the upper hand. I see it already at home with my children, who do not even know what a mimosa, but fully aware of the clothing of Zorro. The children in kindergarten will not receive any flowers, but will be buried by confetti. The big joke the carnival. And then the news will have to decide how to divide the three minutes to the news of little consequence: a minute and a half for the Women's Day, a half minutes for the wagons. The war of the poor.

Then, last Saturday I took my eldest son to a party of four-cinquenni. Of course they were all in masks, and strangely even my son wanted to dress. I say oddly, because like two years ago I bought a black pirate dress, that the first year because he did not want to get frightened, and the second because he was annoyed. Yes, I know, I have not committed to anything, fold up a garment trite, formulaic and a little 'sloppy, but the carnival has never turned particolarmente la mia fantasia. Comunque questa volta mio figlio non ha voluto gli stivali, né il cappello, né la spada, però la camicia e il mantello sì. Già qualcosa. Per fortuna l'avevo comprato in crescere, come fanno le brave madri previdenti. E sempre come una brava madre, mi sono pure ritrovata dopopranzo a cucire il mantello che l'anno prima, in un raptus di protesta, la dolce creatura aveva strappato. Chiaramente ci ho messo due ore, maledicendo l'assenza di "economia domestica" dalle materie della scuola dell'obbligo. Mentre giocavo alla piccola sarta, mi è venuta in mente la storia di quella madre americana che per Halloween aveva vestito il figlio di cinque anni da Daphne di Scooby Doo, generando un vespaio of controversy. Do you know Daphne is not it? Here, is not exactly the macho character from which children use to dress up carnival. And I wonder why. At the bottom of the panorama playful reference to very young children is very varied, but in the end, you always see the girls dressed as princesses and boys as pirates or superheroes. In this exhibition of the stereotype you put me there too, I have chosen and imposed on my son dressed as a pirate (which now no longer even know what it is). In fact, my arbitrariness has turned against me. Maybe my son wanted to dress up as Hello Kitty and I have not been able to interpret his needs. However, the party went very well. The children ran continuously for three hours, and then pass out unconscious each in his own car. Whatever their clothing.
morning instead, Women's Day, I left the two dwarfs in kindergarten, where to take them there were a bevy of fairies and princesses all sbrilluccicanti. Their femininity was so blatant that my firstborn is even blushed. Surely those little women today will be celebrated with full pomp. Will be pirates, astronauts, spider man, batman, Gormiti, peter pan, all at their feet. Other than us, in the office, with a sprig of mimosa skimpy, to wonder where we went wrong.
Ah, if only time my mother had dressed me as a princess! But nothing. In the name of equality (more unconscious conscious) I have always been imposed unisex clothes, like Harlequin and Pierrot. The only time that has encroached in a feminine color me dressed as the Pink Panther. Obviously then you end up writing about women in late.