Little Lizzie and Bernie had a playground spat.
“He said that I couldn’t be president because I’m a girl.”
“Did not,” and so on and so forth.
I’m sure some advice in the kindergarten teacher manual recommends how to deal with “he said”-“she said” arguments, but here’s a memo to these presumed grown-ups acting like overgrown toddlers.
You both sound ridiculous!
In the long-ago distant past when I was a child (it wasn’t actually that long ago, but the memory of college-educated American seems to be about ten-minutes-long these days) there was a popular riddle.
“A child is rushed into the operating room after being in a car accident.”
“The surgeon enters the operating room and exclaims, ‘I can’t operate. This is my son.’”
The surgeon is not the boy’s father. How can that be?
The incredibly elusive answer was that the surgeon was the child’s mother.
Have you heard that riddle being told lately? Neither have I. The instant response today would be, “Duh – it’s his mother.” (Or maybe, “Duh, it’s his stepmother or his other dad or….”) Female physicians are part and parcel of the landscape rather than an aberration. Someone should tell that to Senators Warren and Sanders.