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‘I wish I could blow the school up and then I’d never have to go in again...’

            These were the charming words uttered by my ten year old first thing yesterday morning. She’s not a morning person... you may have picked up on that already.

            ‘Princess,’ said I, in a reasonable mom sort of voice. ‘You can’t blow the school up.’

            ‘She could mom you know,’ said my oldest as she dragged herself into the bathroom. 'They show you how to make bombs on the internet.'

            I paused, one hand still in the underwear drawer (okay fine it wasn’t really in a drawer it was sifting through ‘the pile’ recently dumped on a bedroom chair) and considered the evils of the modern world.

            ‘Is Vicci right, do they really show you how to make bombs on the internet?’ Bear asked intrigued.

            ‘Hmmmm,’ I replied giving myself some time to think. ‘Yes I think they probably do but under-no-circumstances-whatsoever-are-you-to-even-consider Googling-that!’

            Bear smiled, her mischievous ‘ah ha’ sort of smile. I should point out here that Bear is a monstrous tomboy; she does not and has not for many many years owned a doll. There are no Barbie’s or Bratz or princess paraphernalia in our house. Bear likes Pokemon and Backugan and various other strange Japanese trading/fighting games. I could already see her little mind ticking over, probably imaging herself in a lab somewhere constructing a variety of IID’s – improvised incendiary devices.

            ‘You’ll get arrested,’ Vicci shouted through. ‘Swarms of anti-terror police will swoop on the house and arrest us all and make us wear horrible orange jumpsuits that’ll make me look all pale and washed out!’

            It’s good to know what my teenage daughter’s priorities are – getting arrested for building bombs is ok so long as she doesn’t have to wear anything unfashionable... to be fifteen again... (I’d rather eat snake snot)

            ‘You know,’ I said, hastily changing the subject (and making a mental note to myself to tighten both children’s parental internet controls). ‘You’re very lucky even to go to school, in the olden days girls weren’t allowed to, only boys were educated.’

            ‘That would be great!’ Bear enthused. ‘I could stay at home and do whatever I wanted.’

            ‘Is that right?’

            ‘Yeah I could play my computer and read all day and laze about!’

            ‘But girls were only allowed to read certain books,’ I replied. ‘You’d have to read things like ‘How to Embroider a Pin Cushion’ and ’50 Fabulous Dishes’... and you’d have to wear a dress!’

            Bear’s gazed at me aghast, a dress is the ultimate form of punishment. ‘That’s really boring... and awful... and boring.’

            ‘No Horrid Henry, no weird science books called ‘Why Eating Bogies is Good For You’ or ‘How Much Poo Does an Elephant Do,’ Vicci added flopping onto the bed.

            ‘But that’s so mean,’ Bear said. ‘That boys got to do the good stuff and girls didn’t.’

            ‘Yeah and only boys would be able to go on the internet I bet,’ Vicci added. ‘Sexist pigs!’

            I pulled two socks that matched (well they were both white) from the pile and looked over at my two princesses. Our household is all girls – even the stick insects are girls – and we’ve got this whole ‘women rule, no men allowed’ thing goin on.  

            ‘So only boys would be able to blow the school up anyway?’ Bear asked slowly.

            Vicci nodded, I shook my head. ‘No one is blowing up any school.’

            ‘Boys are thicker than girls though anyway,’ Vicci stated in her listen-sister-this-is-fact-you-will-hear-it-and-believe-it-even-if-it-is-not-true voice (Bear always does believe it). ‘They wouldn’t even be able to build a proper bomb.’

            Bear nodded her agreement whilst I considered just turning the broadband router off altogether.

            ‘Yes boys are stupid...  I suppose I have to go to school,’ Bear decided with her strange child logic. ‘So I can read what I want and because otherwise no one will ever learn to build a bomb and no one can ever blow the school up so that I can’t go.’

            ‘Bear that doesn’t even make sense,’ I said.

            Bear smiled at me with a strange little glint in her eye. ‘It does to me mom.’