Family: Mum's the Word
Going out,” says Middle Child, Hoovering up his dinner. “On a date with a bird I met on Tinder.”
“No! Don’t say ‘bird’. That’s disrespectful,” says Youngest Child, before I can get in with any interrogation about interweb dating.
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Hide Ad“Really?” he says. “I thought saying bird was OK – it’s a nice tweety thing. I like birds – the feathery ones, and the...”
“No! It’s not OK,” says Youngest. “It’s disrespectful and sexist.”
“Oh,” says Middle. “Not sort of complimenty then…”
“No.”
“What’s wrong with just saying ‘woman?’” I ask.
“Nah, it’s too…”
“What? It’s too what?”
“Dunno. Woman. It’s…”
“Too wimmin? Like feminist, like me?”
“Er… OK, I won’t say bird, what should I say?” he asks, sidestepping nicely.
“Well, I quite like it when bus drivers call me ‘doll’,” I say, “and that doesn’t stop me being a RAGING feminist,” I add, just to wind anyone up who might object.
Youngest gives me A Look. “Sad.”
“Lassie,” says Youngest. “What’s wrong with calling us lassies? That’s what we say at school and it’s a good word, Scottish, it’s just what we say, and it’s not insulting to anyone.”
“OK, got to go and meet a lassie,” says Middle, and disappears.
“So,” I ask Youngest tentatively, as there have been previous disappointments and setbacks in our journey, “would you say you were a… em... a feminist… em… at all?”
“Yes. I would,” she shoots straight back mildly.
Yay! I do imaginary laps around the kitchen.
She continues: “I think it’s wrong the way things are.”
Yay! More imaginary laps…
“But I think men and boys are the way they are, and the world is the way it is, and…”
Imaginary laps shudder to a halt.
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Hide Ad“What? Don’t you think we could fight to change things?” I say.
“Hmmm. Maybe. But right now, I’ve got to go.”
She disappears as Eldest arrives.
“Food. Yas!” he says. “Where’s the bro?”
“Gone on a date,” I say.
“Aw yeah, with that bird he met on Tinder.”
“Well…” n