I knew my half arsed attitude to parenting would one day, come back to haunt me. I am now the mother of two adult sons who don't know how to wash up. They could knock up a duplicate hadron collider and tell me its inner workings, but they have no idea what the sink in the kitchen is for. And me a feminist.
To be fair, I wasn't much of a feminist when they were growing up, unless reading ;The Women's Room' counts. Whatever, the whole message went right over my head, because Maggie Thatcher was cool simply on the basis that she was a woman. I know, I know, and I have done penance for it every day since. It was the eighties and Sue Ellen and Pam Ewing, were our inspiration. I even wore power suits and heels to pick up a take-a-way. Feminism had never reached the likes of me, I think it was because I'd gone to a Catholic school.
But I digress, back to those lazy boys, on pointing out that it was me that did the washing up, not some little fairy, younger son replied 'stop trying to steal the fairy's limelight'. He is studying psychology at the moment and outwitting me at every turn, it is quite disconcerting. He can spot the twitch of an eyebrow at 10 paces, and any chance of convincing him we've run out of jaffa cakes is lost. I wish I had been stricter with the chores! Doh!
But what led me to off to that train of thought? Ahh yes, that strange story this week of the couple who are raising their little boy as 'non gender', with an accompanying picture of the little fella in a tutu. For the moment I am speechless!
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