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PHIL has learned a home isn't like a hotel, where you just ring for room service if you want anything. And now he lets me know, in advance, so I can stock up at the grocery store.
Though we may not always see eye to eye on some things, raising our two little girls is a joint responsibility for Phil and me. We agree on all matters of discipline and training. "None of this rough stuff" is the way Phil puts it, and we've never found that spankings were necessary. We want Alice and Phyllis to have a normal childhood, with freedom for playing, but a sense of duty, too.
Wanda, our dog, is their playmate, but they have already learned that Wanda has his rights, too. If his ears are pulled, he's going to growl at them. They will never, as I've seen some children do, torment an animal, because they know that if a cat or dog scratches them we don't scold the animal— we explain to Alice and Phyllis that it's their responsibility not to anger the pet and to realize he has only that method of protecting himself.
Their sense of responsibility extends even to themselves. Alice looks after Phyllis with great maternal pride. This always surprises me — or perhaps it's a clue to Phil's character, too — because Alice, who looks very much like me, has all the personality of her father . . . impetuous, bubbling over with good humor, quick to catch on and a twinkle in her eye that shows she understands more than she lets on; Phyllis resembles Phil in looks, but she has my quieter, more reserved temperament.
We have deliberately kept them from having any consciousness of the limelight that goes with radio or motion pictures in the family. We want them to grow up free of any publicity-tainted childhood — to look upon the work Phil and I do as just another job and not something glamorous to brag about to the neighbors' children.
We'll do it. As Phil says: "This bringin' up a family's a cinch as long as you got a sense of humor. And an inflexible will."
"A what kind of a will, Phil?"
"I pronounced it, didn't I? Do I have to know what it means, too?"
And that's my husband — Phil Harris.
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and a Frenchman Kissing my Hand
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