I regret some of my parenting decisions, but I don't regret buying my sons dolls they could cuddle and care for. I don't regret the hours my sons spent make-believing with their sister and our wooden play kitchen, because, as we all know, men cook and eat, too. I don't regret dressing my daughter in her older brother's hand-me-down pajamas with blue and red stripes, because she loved them, and because girls can look fabulous in colors other than pink. I don't regret buying her Hot Wheels when she asked for them, or supporting her decision to wear pants last Easter because a skirt might interfere with her ability to be fully competitive in the front-yard egg hunt. I don't regret saying, "The rainbow belongs to everyone," each time a stereotype about "girl colors" and "boy colors" found its way into our conversations.
If anyone makes an issue about my child receiving this particular toy for Christmas, I am going to challenge that person. Because I would deeply regret missing an opportunity to point out how placing people in stupid boxes prevents them from experiencing all of their humanity.
And if I'm in the mood, I might also sing a horribly off-key version of this song. (If you listen, please don't miss the last verse.)