By Susanna Rodell

You gotta hand it to those heterosexuals. They sure do a lot for the institution of marriage.

They just keep on marrying. They're a model of industry, when you think about it. Take that hetero poster girl, Britney Spears. A proud proponent of the straight and well, not so narrow ... a beacon to red-blooded American girls and boys.

She's got all the equipment required for good old-fashioned male-female relations, and she's not hiding it. She's inspired millions of preadolescent females to learn to shake their little booties at a very young age. You've got to catch them young, and it's touching to see how well her little followers have learned their lesson: To be female (even if you're only 8) means to sport tight hip-hugger pants, cropped camisoles, high-heeled sandals and a lot of eye shadow.

No butch jeans and boots allowed on little girls in the third grade, as my errant daughter found to her shame. At 8, all she cared about was her pony. She came to school dressed accordingly, in her precious scuffed Blundstone boots and her favorite Pointer brand jeans.

She got laughed off the playground. Kids whispered the L-word. Even the teacher joined in. "I'm tired of seeing you in those old boots," she told my social misfit in front of the whole class. The kids who won her approval had already learned the advanced art of painting their toenails to match their outfits.

My kid was clearly not with the program. You've got to teach values in school, and they were trying. And Britney, bless her heart, was their staunch ally. These kids knew an incipient lesbian when they saw one. Of course, the concept of the old-fashioned tomboy had long ago bitten the dust, relegated to the more innocent days when Americans were much less aware of the threat of deviance.

Once upon a time it was considered OK, even bordering on normal, for a girl child to be more interested in climbing trees than applying mascara. My kid was just born too late. At a friend's house, she ventured into the limbs of a tree and was threatened with a paddling by the adult of the household. Deviant behavior, clearly.

The same friend came to visit us. We lived in the woods at the time and the child was terrified to follow my daughter down to the creek. The woods were dangerous, she was sure. Besides, she might get dirty. She'd surely get in trouble when she went home.

And now, we find, all those little girls' heroine is once again showing them the way. Marriage is so much fun! You're in Vegas, it's a beautiful night, you're with an old friend - hey, let's get married!

Who cares if you only have time to throw on an old baseball cap! You can get it annulled in the morning! Then you're free to do it again! Kyewl!

My kid's now 13, and I sure hope she's paying attention. She does care a bit more about her appearance these days, but she still thinks her horse is more important than any boy she's met. One day, maybe, she'll straighten out ... so to speak. And I feel a whole lot better, knowing Britney is there to show the way.