Being Intelligent, Tolerant, Charming and Happy

I have this suspicion that M. thinks I am always on the verge of shedding my girlie outfits to become a full time, armour-clad, Boaddicea of feminism. I suppose I do give him some cause for concern - for example, my aversion to all things 'cute'. This undignifying label is something I attribute to a wide range of things - wearing pink, Hello Kitty accessories and Meg Ryan films to name a few.
"If we have a daughter and she likes cute things like Hello Kitty and pink lace, would you beat her up?" he asked, once. I resisted the urge to say the choice number of things that I felt ("No daughter of mine is going to wear pink!" "Yes, and some." "I would consider her retarded, possibly - who can like Hello Kitty and be normal?") and instead said, "Well, I suppose we'd have to respect her choices." M. isn't one to be played for the fool, but instead of questioning my dubious answer he just shook his head.

This morning he was knitting his eyebrows over my choice of reading material. I suppose it might be somewhat alarming to a man if his girlfriend reads books with titles that have the word 'bitch' in them. Last weekend when I had finished The Bitch in the House he had asked me, "So are you now going to hate me because I'm a male and I oppress all women?" (to which I had prudently answered, "No dear, you are definitely more enlightened than most men. And I believe in judging on a case by case basis."). Today he asked, "Why do you have to read all these books about angry women?" when I'd told him I'd finished reading Why Men Love Bitches. "Actually this book is not about angry women, the title really is more tongue-in-cheek than that," I said. "It just makes me angry about women, as a matter of fact."
"Why?" he asked.
"I didn't know women were capable of being so sappy," I said.
"Why read books that make you angry? Find something that will make you happy," he said. But I persisted.
"For example, there's a story about this woman who makes a four course meal for her boyfriend and he cancels at the last minute. Do you know what she does?"
"What?" he asked.
"She goes over to his house the next day, and then makes him the same four course meal! For someone who stood her up! It's crazy!"
"Well, maybe he was working," M. pointed out.
"He could have called earlier. You would have called earlier," I said.
"True. But don't you want to do nice things for me? Is that bad?"
"Of course I want to do nice things for you, dear. I'm not saying that. Look, there are these women who rack up huge bills because they pay for their boyfriends while on holiday and their boyfriends never pay them back," I continued.
"Now that's wrong," M. said emphatically. "Some women really need to learn to stand up for themselves."
"See. If I have a daughter I'm going to put her through self-confidence training," I said.
"OK," M. said. I am so proud of him, honestly. He's dealing with my inner-Boaddicea really well.

We should change the meaning of the word, 'bitch'. I personally do not like the term and would never consider it flattering. Isn't it meant to refer to a female animal? From the two books I've read over the past week (oh the veritable fountain of knowledge that I am) I suspect that the term 'bitch' really should be used to refer to women who know what they want and how to get it. I propose therefore that the word becomes an acronym standing for "Being Intelligent, Tolerant, Charming and Happy". Be a B.I.T.C.H. rather than a doormat, ladies.