"Playdates"
"What have you done to my daughter?"
"I haven't done anything to her," Maddie stood her ground, arms crossed. "She and the boys had a water balloon fight and she borrowed some clothes while we put hers in the dryer."
"She's dressed like a boy!" Samantha's mother pointed an accusing finger down at her daughter, hair still wet and in a pair of Danny's old jeans and a raggedy black t-shirt about a size too big.
"She looks like a seven-year-old to me Pam, not a doll."
"I specifically included a change of clothes for her!" Pamela Manson said. "Why isn't she wearing them?"
"Because she didn't want to wear them! I had to coax her out of a tree by promising to find her something other than pink!"
"Is that what you call parenting? Letting your children call the shots?"
"Oh you did not just-"
Jasmine interrupted them by tugging on Pamela's dress. "It's okay, Ms. Manson," she informed her helpfully. "Sam is just at that age where she is trying to develop her own sense of identity and is rebelling against traditional gender roles because she feels they're restricting her self-expression."
Maddie smirked at the gobsmacked expression on Pam's face. "…how old are you?"
"Nine and a half," Jazz replied.
"Well," Pam looked over at her daughter again disapprovingly. "I suppose I should be grateful you didn't stick in her a jumpsuit."
"For your information, we didn't have any junior sizes in a color she liked. And while we're on the subject: YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH JUMPSUITS?!"
"Pam, Maddie, please," Ms. Foley stood between them. "The kids are fine, they all had fun together- no harm done, right?"
"Yeah!" little Tucker agreed, hooking his arm around Sam's shoulder."It was awesome!"
"Can I come back to Danny's tomorrow after school, Mom?" Sam asked. "Pleeeeeeeeeease?"
"I'm not certain this is a proper environment for a little girl to be in, Samantha."
"Well excuse me," Madeline glared. "But my home is a perfectly appropriate environment to raise children!"
Just as Pamela opened her mouth to reply, a flying green suction-dart latched on to the side of her cheek.
Maddie groaned and covered her face with her palm while her husband ran through the room, Danny riding on his shoulders brandishing a pair of toy pistols. Samantha's now-dry dress was tied around his neck and served as a heroic cape.
"HA-HA! Take that, you sack of putrid ecto…ecto…uh…ghost lady!"
"Jack!" Maddie admonished.
"I'm not Jack! I'm a noble steed!"
"Noble steeds don't talk, Daddy!" Danny told him.
"Oops, sorry!"
"Well," Maddie shrugged. "At least he brought us the dress?"
"YOU ALL LOOK LIKE ANTS FROM UP HERE!"
