I just remember what I started to blog about when The King called down from the boys room (see previous post)
I was so sidetracked by the sweetness of the moment that I almost forgot that my 2 year old went all sexist on me earlier.
I was in the kitchen going through emails when MC walked out of my bedroom and yelled (and I kid you not here)
Woman! You get me the remote
Oh no you didn't kid!
The King claims that there is no way he could have said that (where on earth would MC have heard that he asked. Hmmmm. I wonder????). But I know what I heard.
No one has called me woman since my Puerto Rican Grandpa was babysitting us when I was 11 and he demanded, "woman, go get the men a drink"- the "men" being him and my 10 year old brother. It took every ounce of willpower I had to respectfully serve my grandpa and smirking brother, then vow to reap revenge on men everywhere for the remainder of my days.
I've matured a little since then.
But that sword wielding feminist still lives on inside the stay at home, piano teaching Mormon housewife I've become. And when my 2 year old had the gall to call me woman, She Ra almost erupted out of my skin and took him down.
Instead I let his dad deal with him.
Exactly how early is too early to start reading The Feminine Mystique to him?