Big Pimping

Big Pimping
AP Photo/Debra Reid, file

It was the dreaded Moms’ Night Out at my son’s exorbitantly expensive Montessori preschool.

There were a few aged rock stars and insufferable list B-actors with children at this school, but that wasn’t going to stop me from providing my firstborn with excellence in developmental education that mainly seemed to involve depositing smooth pebbles into various bowls using hand-hewn stone implements.

We were just digging into pizza and our third bottle of Chianti when a stylish, glossy-haired mother of two started talking about her daughter, who was three. In a voice filled with breathless anticipation, she described her plans for when her baby would enter the sexual marketplace. “I just want her to know she can tell me anything. As soon as she gets her period, I’m totally taking her to get on the pill. I just want us to be close.”

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