Warning: Mama Bear on the Rampage

Nothing makes me hotter under the collar than someone pickin' on one of my children. Regardless of how old (or tall) they may be, they are still my little cubs and it would be best to steer clear of riling this mama bear.

Sadly, someone (several someones actually) did not get my memo on this.

It's time (as my dear friend Mary would say) to open a can...

In the recent past my baby girl has been accused of being both too worldly and too sheltered . Seriously. While she is extremely talented, I doubt that she can be both too worldly and too non-worldly.

To those who think that she is too worldly, I would like to say: shaddup already!

Wearing pirate earrings does not make one worldly.

Seeing the play, The Pirates of Penzance, doesn't either.

Nor does wearing pants, or wearing make-up, or watching TV, or listening to Christian music, or going to summer camp.

It's okay to wear funky nail polish, and cool caps, and to play music from the Pirates of the Caribbean movies.

None of these things make a girl "worldly".

And for those little...ahem...other folks who think that my baby is too sheltered or non-worldly please allow me a moment to slap...to share my thoughts on your verbal attacks.

Does your mother know you speak this way?

Do you EAT with that mouth? Really?

In case you haven't noticed, we live in AMERICA. It's a FREE country. We have the right to chose the type of education that fits our family and we've proven that it works. Our girl is not sequestered in a closet, knitting socks, and pining for her freedom. If she were, she would never have met you and suffered your abusive and brutal "jokes".

I'm sorry that you were forced into the "pack" mentality and that it is now impossible for you to think for yourself. Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Please be warned, while my darling daughter will put up with your self-centered, egotistical, nasty, foul person, I will not. I don't run with the pack, nor do I care what the pack thinks. If you keep messin' with my girl, you and I are gonna have a little talk. This I promise.

A storms brewin'.

Be warned.



My poor, abused, baby...sniffle, sniffle, sniffle. Doesn't she look, sniffle sad?