My worst fears have been confirmed. Matilda, at the ripe young age of eight, is in a gang. It's true. According to Merrillville, Indiana schools, my daughter has a tell-tale sign of gangdom. I always knew Indiana was a hot bed of gang activity.
Here's the thing. Matilda left for a Brownie event wearing pink pants, a pink shirt, and a pink floppy hat that made her look like Ethel Merman's nightmare version of Jungle Jim. Except for the Brownie vest, it was all pink. If a sudden taffeta explosion occurred at a prom dress factory, we wouldn't be able to find her.
Here I thought she was just being a little girl. I didn't know she had joined a new gang. In fact, almost all of her friends, all girls, were wearing some form of pink. Maybe this "Brownies" thing is just a cover . . . And Ryan Seacrest is their gang leader!
This actually does explain quite a bit. This morning when she asked me for her allowance I told her I didn't have any money on me at the moment.
"The f*** you mean you ain't got my money yet," she cried. "The f*** you mean you don't got my money yet? You best pay me my motherf*****' money."
She then stomped off to her room yelling something about getting a "gak" and "popping a cap in my ass".
"Oh, those crazy kids and their Nickelodeon language," I said.
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