pin the what? on the who?
Did we not attend colleges and universities of higher learning, step-by-step and shot-after-shot with our more hirsute brethren, oft times achieving higher GPA's, more advanced degrees and better paying jobs -- nay! -- careers?
Have we not traveled to foreign lands and gamely purchased truckloads of chiclets from urchin children while generously doling out hard candy and miniscule denominations cautiously fetched from our wisely "hidden" moneybelts.
Can we not say "thank you," "please," and "beer," in more languages than we have fingers on our hands?
Do we not help heal the enfeebled, teach the befuddled and defend the benighted in courts of law with savvy and professionalism? Or at the very least, keep words like "like" and "totally" and "dude" out of our marketing presentations and pitch meetings?
Do we not -- on our very own -- purchase expensive cars and homes and shoes?
Do we not do our own taxes? Or at least know a good accountant who can do them for us?
Do we not contribute to our 401ks?
Have we not massaged and managed and yay, when needed, manipulated men into marrying us -- without the indignity of a prenup?!
Are we not, I ask you, capable of setting our minds to accomplish any and all goals personal and professional?
(Actually, in the spirit of full-disclosure, I've accomplished somewhat less than that mentioned above, but I'm kind of an under-achiever, so don't use me as an example.)
Are we not women?!
I say we are!
And to that end, women of the world, I propose the following: that we hereby abolish the playing of the games at bridal events and baby showers, at engagement parties and bachelorette soirees.
LET US BE DONE, SISTERS!!
LET US BE DONE with the guessing games and the quirky quizzes!
LET US BE DONE with the adornment of condoms, of assorted phallic jewelry, of obscene head gear!
LET US BE DONE with the tasting of melted chocolate nestled in baby diapers, in the smelling of baby food disguised as baby poo!
LET US BE DONE with Pin the Penis on the life-sized cut out of Orlando Bloom!
LET US BE DONE with tackling dear Aunt Gertie who, for the cardinal crime of merely uttering the word "baby," must sacrifice her safety pins to our greedy lapels.
LET US BE DONE with ridiculous blindfolds and oh-my-god-who-picked-out-this-piece-of-crap door prizes!
(Okay, again, in the spirit of full disclosure, I should say that I've either participated in or actually planned parties in which each of the above games was played. My favorite is the baby food in the diaper game. If you have someone with a sensitive gag reflex, it can be really hysterical. And yet still, I say. . . )
LET US BE DONE with forcing ourselves to be naughty.
Are we not naughty enough on our own? More so, even, when left to our own devices?!
Do we not, under less eventful circumstances, still manage to hold forth with intelligent, witty and oftentimes delightfully salacious conversation?
Must we debase ourselves with these trifling games? Must we embarrass ourselves with these contrived amusements?
Would we not cringe if men stood witness to our inanity? Would we not sit on our funny hats, hide our cutsie drawings, eat our silly words?
Let us be done, sisters.
I beg you.
Let us be done.
After all, are we not women?