Stereotypes exist because people act stereotypically.

I got Mary dressed this morning in a pretty blue dress she had never seen before. “Ooooo,” she said. “Yes, pretty,” I agreed. Then I said, “Let’s get your shoes.”

Mary didn’t want her shoes, apparently bored with the same old same old. She walked off to play with the toy kitchen. “Look,” I said. She blatantly ignored me and continued to occupy herself with plastic vegetables. “Mary, look,” I insisted. These weren’t her usual shoes. These were new sandals, something she had never seen. Finally, I waved them in front of her face.

“Ooooo,” she said and immediately lifted her feet for a try-on. “How nice,” her sisters cooed. Once on, she bent over admiring them.

“Let’s go show, Daddy,” I suggested. She liked that idea, grasped my finger and off we toddled. First she saw Fritz and lifted her feet for him, then she showed Daddy her pretty new shoes. She babbled excitedly and continued to look at her feet as though getting new shoes were the greatest joy on earth.

Because, for a girl, sometimes, it is.