Not every girl going through a tomboy phase gets a machete of her very own. But I never was every girl.
This is a photograph of me, about ten years old, mad for Enid Blyton books and modeling myself on the character Georgina"Cousin George"of the Famous Four. That's my Dad, who was writing a play, and had moved us all to a one room servants apartment on the back of a villa overlooking a beach in Plymouth, Tobago. And that's my machete.
I was a daring girl. The first morning I woke up in Tobago, I set out by myself to explore the village, without bothering to wake up my parents. After a while, I got lost. Fortunately, some nice local gentlemen in an old beat up car gave me a ride home. My parents almost died.
I joke that it's just as well I have sons, and no daughtersmy heart would never survive a girl like I was. But if I had a daughter, I'd like to think she'd have a streak of daring, and that I'd find waysshort of giving her a macheteto honor it. The Double-Daring Book for Girls has plenty of ideas.
I have a brand new copy of this wonderful book to give away, as part of a book "shower" organized in the authors' honor by their friend, Melissa. Just leave a comment letting me know something of the daring girl you were, nearly were, or wished you were, and be entered for a chance to win. I'll use a random number generator to select a winner on Friday, June 19.
Go ahead. I double dare you.