A little while ago, my wife found herself in an uncomfortable situation. She was out running errands with our three-year-old daughter when they happened across a man, who was very obviously a man — five o’clock shadow, Adam’s apple, the whole nine yards — yet was dolled up in makeup, a wig, and a dress. My daughter responded exactly as any normal child would respond. She pointed at the man and asked, loudly, “Mommy, isn’t that a boy?”
“Yes, that’s a boy,” my wife quickly responded. “But we don’t point.”
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