leads to mollycoddled
no? And seeing that we aren’t allowed to differentiate these days (boys and girls are now fully interchangeable) (brrrrr) shouldn’t the lingo be modernised to keep up? So for no more blatant ‘sexism’ we replace mollycoddled with kiddie-coddled, girls become boys and vice-versa?
in the kiddy-centres the trees in the grounds were fitted with little pretty ribbons—beyond which the wee delicates were not (r) NOT allowed to ‘climb’. And you may guess for yourself how high (think leg-joints in grasshoppers).
I forgot to score the source as well but scored these images off u-toobe, look upon these works ye mighty and shriek in outraged horror—
—but not all was sweetness and light and ‘Child Friendly’—
Okinawa, huh? Did their Moms and Dads and the nice folks in City Hall tie pretty ribbons around certain stalagmites “No going beyond this point”? (Don’t ask moi—I’m just the duty cynic here.)
AND BEFORE YOU
bleat the obvious:
I was noisy for ‘Women’s Rights’ long before most wimmin were. But for Heaven’s sake, let kids be kids—let girls be girls and boys be
girl (oops) boys, they’ll work it out.
And take those silly ribbons down from the blasted trees! (Or if you’re really worried take down the blasted trees and give ’em all little Day-Glo jackets to wear when going out to ‘play’ in recess, and make ’em all wear little Day-Glo hat—
“Mr argus! Sir?”
(Oops … I think I’ve transgressed or otherwise trodden upon a delicate wee foot—)
“Yes, Little Ollivia?”
“They already do that in Winton, Sir.”
(Bugger … that’s me, always a bridesmaid and never a— )
“Mr Argus! Sexismist’s language again, Sir— that should be ‘Wedding Attendant Female’, Sir, not bridesmaid!”
Again I’m a retrospective prophet. A dinosaur, a