Pink little boys

Now it's happened twice - me calling a little boy "she" just because of him wearing pink. Not that it's a big deal, I mean, people say "he" to Noam all the time, and I don't bother correcting them. Who cares?

But the fact that the only reason I assumed that those little boys were little girls was the way they were dressed, makes me a bit embarrassed, annoyed, but also happy.

Embarrassed, because as often as I preach about the importance of killing gender roles and norms, I don't want to make mistakes like that.

Annoyed, because my mistake is not unusual, and it may seem like a minor thing, what color we chose to dress our children in, but it's a minor thing that is a part of a much bigger thing. That bigger thing is how differently boys and girls are raised and treated. That is what annoys me.

Finally I'm happy. Happy, as the fact that I've made the mistake twice, actually means that there is at least two couple of parents out there that choses to ignore that most people think girls should be dressed in pink and boys in blue.

Maybe in a few years time there will be many, many more parents like that, than there is today.