Posts Tagged ‘Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’

The Pixie is sandwiched between two brothers, and it shows in her choice of toys. Her mainstays are four plastic Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (aka “Inja Turtles”). There is Daddy Inja, Brother and Sister, and some other lesser, unnamed turtle who just tags along with the others.  

The Injas like to mix it up with the cars from the Car Box from time to time. Here is a small sample of their conversation as they cruise the loungeroom in their hot pink Barbie roadster :

DADDY INJA: Let’s play ring-a-ring-a-rosie!

ALL: Yaaaayyyyyy!

DADDY INJA: Sister, that blue car wants to kill you.

SISTER: (cheerfully) Okay!

It’s not surprising, therefore, that The Pixie has come up with the concept of the “Boy-Girl”. She will often declare someone to be a Boy-Girl and then qualify it with a reason such as “because they like cheese” or, even more intriguingly, when talking about the girliest-girly-girl that ever walked the planet, “them have a penis”. 

I’ve yet to ascertain a clear definition of the Boy-Girl from The Pixie. For someone who’s always going on about it, she’s remarkably cagey about its exact meaning. Perhaps she’s trying to protect the intellectual property rights,  no doubt under the advice of Mr Justice (also known, upon occasion, as “The Pixie’s Lawyer”).

In any case, having a certified Boy-Girl assessor in the house can certainly keep things interesting. One morning I went from just a girl, to a  Boy-Girl and back to a girl again – and all I had done was change my shoes.

And then in waltzes TIddles McGee, wearing a glittery headband and some pretty pink beads and carrying a large plastic weapon, walking that fine fine line between Paris Hilton in Who Weekly and Sty Stallone in “First Blood”. Perhaps, I hesitantly suggest to The One Who Knows, Tiddles – in his current acouterment – is the perfect example of the Boy-Girl?

The Pixie solemnly shakes her head. “He’s not a Boy-Girl, mummy…. He’s a poo-poo pants”.

And indeed he is. As I engage in the usual pitched hand-to-hand battle with Tiddles that is our nappy-changing routine, I reflect that this will not the be the last time that The Pixie will be in the “Know” and I’ll be in the “Don’t Have a Frigging Clue”. My children will be my navigators in an increasingly alien world of popular culture and I’ll just have to tag along for the ride, much like that unnamed Inja.

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