It's a brand new day for all womankind.
Now, my daughter will grow up in a world where a woman is a legitimate contender for the highest office in the land. And--if God really cares about this country as much as everyone always says He does--hopefully the next President of the United States.
Now, when I stare into Paige's bright blue eyes, so full of hope, love, intelligence, and curiosity, I can take her chin in my hand, look her squarely in her young and vibrant-with-innocence face and tell her the truth:
"Sorry, honey. You still probably won't be president."
And because she's so smart, I know my daughter will accept this fact with only a minor shrug of the shoulders, as she returns to organizing her Shopkins; as the reality sinks in that although she will one day become a woman who does some cool and productive shit with her life (if she's lucky), she almost certainly will not be the President of the United States of America.
I mean, let's be honest. The chance that she (or any given girl in America for that matter) will be POTUS is seriously almost nonexistent. Like about the same as getting eaten by a shark, winning the lottery, or being struck by lightning. So it's a pretty safe bet that when you tell your daughter she probably won't be president someday, you're simply telling her the truth.
That's just the statistical reality of the matter, and it's never too early for a math lesson.