Dear Emma,

If you are as lucky as I have been in life, some day in the distant future you will be the mother of a little girl. She will be charming, cheery, and compassionate, as are you.

One day, she will turn nine years old, and, out of the blue, will seem suddenly compelled to start partaking of more grown-up, womanly activities.

You may notice her repeated applications of glitter lip gloss and pink nail polish. She may begin to ask questions about boys and bras. And, if you are the very luckiest of mothers, she may even start helping out with household chores without your prompting.

Please allow me to offer you a word of advice.

Keep reading . . .