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"I recently watched three very solemn girls dining with their parents. They greeted the waitress with &amp;quot;please&amp;quot; and &amp;quot;thank you.&amp;quot; There was no yelling, no screaming and no hitting. There was also no laughter. Good manners are at the center of my parenting. When my kids misbehave, I&amp;#039;m less mortified than insistent on correcting them with appropriate consequences. Right or wrong, the world is even harder on girls than on defiant than boys. And while I treat my kids equally, it&amp;#039;s vital that my outspoken daughter (I have no idea who she gets her straight forwardness from) learn how to speak her mind in a graceful manner. I also pray that she never ends up like those wall flower females from dinner. What I fear most about squelching my little girl&amp;#039;s spirit for the sake of manners is that, when she&amp;#039;s done following my regime, she will simply follow a man&amp;#039;s \u2013 and there&amp;#039;s no promise he&amp;#039;ll be as kind as Papa. Are there sacrifices a woman makes for her husband? Absolutely. As for me, quote borrowed from a friend, &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;ll do anything my husband asks me to do, but nothing that he tells me to do.&amp;quot; My husband is my equal, not my owner. It&amp;#039;s for these very reasons that any song or poem smacking of hero worship drives me insane. One such offender is Enrique Iglesius&amp;#039;s Let Me Be Your Hero. If the words weren&amp;#039;t saccharine enough, the chorus is always prefaced by a gagging barf. Seriously, right before the lyrics is this yaaaaking sound. &amp;quot;AaaackIIIIIIIIIII will be your hero, baby...&amp;quot; I can&amp;#039;t hear it without picturing Cartman from South Park vomiting during a talent show. Hopeless romantics who think I&amp;#039;m some bitchy feminist might not want to read my answers to Enrique&amp;#039;s questions. They won&amp;#039;t be pretty. Would you dance, If I asked you to dance?  (Not if you&amp;#039;re going to slip me a roofie) Would you run, And never look back?  (I would for a Nordstrom sale, but not for you) Would you cry, If you saw me crying?  (I believe that&amp;#039;s called co-dependency... save it for Mama) And would you save my soul, tonight?  (Sure, I&amp;#039;ll save your soul if you&amp;#039;ll save me the last piece of curry chicken) Would you tremble, If I touched your lips?  (If you had a canker sore, hell yes I&amp;#039;d tremble) Would you laugh? Oh please tell me this. (I&amp;#039;d downright guffaw if our relationship lasted more than one hour when you realized I had about as much virginal purity as Madonna) Now would you die, For the one you love? Hold me in your arms, tonight. (I don&amp;#039;t have a choice. You&amp;#039;re kind of choking me with your control. Down boy.) Yaaaak....I can be your hero, baby. I can kiss away the pain. I will stand by you forever. You can take my breath away. (You need a ventilator. And a hobby.) And I need some sleep, plus a new song in my head. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/relationships/a2733/i-can-be-your-wall-flower-baby/>