Poking fun at perfection

Nobody likes a goody two-shoes. Miss Perfect. Personal comparisons to Martha Stewart before her fall from grace. (Which these days conjures images of Paris Hilton—prison, as opposed to perfection doing the trick—which is another story entirely...or maybe not.)

That's why when my daughter was encouraged to read Nancy Drew, and soon grew tired of Nancy's ability to excel at everything, whether it be helping elderly ladies, knabbing robbers, sewing her own clothes, or otherwise solving all the world's ills, I didn't force the issue. I figured the books were outdated. It's another world these days. Books I enjoyed as a child my daughter should be under no obligation to read. After all, there have been thousands of spectacular children's books written since my youth. (And we won't go into how long ago that was!)

This past weekend we took in the new-ish Nancy Drew movie at our local cinema. We both loved it. Nancy was as perfect as ever, solving mysteries, reuniting family members, thwarting crooks. However, we, and Nancy herself, were encouraged and able to laugh at her OCD tendencies. Best of all, she was a teenager, perhaps not typical, but with all the usual teenage angst (okay, a little less than everyone else): making friends, fitting in, pleasing her father, longing for her mother.

Gosh, Nancy actually seemed human. And funny. Not to mention cute as a button. A perfect heroine, in fact.