Let’s also not forget the extra effort we need to protect our sons from pornography and consumerism-defined masculinity, to prevent them from becoming “the future boyfriends” our daughters don’t deserve.
A typical afternoon in a typical middle-class home. It’s just after 4.30pm, I’m back from the school run — and in the next room I can hear my four-year-old daughter Clio rehearsing a routine she’s learnt at her school dance club.
In front of the full-length mirror in the living room, she’s in full performance mode — although what she’s singing today is a departure from her usual material.
At first, the words melt into one. But gradually, I can pick out what she’s trying to articulate: ‘I’m a single laydee, I’m a single laydee — I’ve got a man on my hips and lipstick on my lips.’
The full implication of the words may be lost on Clio, but it’s clear from the way she’s wiggling her bottom in her own version of Beyonce’s booty-shaking tour-de-force that she thinks she looks grown-up.