Family conference time in the car and I’m all-out nagging at the boys to do their fair share of picking up after themselves. Big A suppresses a smile, Li’l A pays attention--to the New York skyline, as though expecting a Spider-Man sighting.
Hey, I demand. Pay attention, I’m full of feminist rage here.
Big A laughs. The words that escape him sound like, You can't even fake anger right.
Li’l A crows, Nah! She luuurves us.
And then… and then... they high five. Gleefully.
It was entirely too much. I bit the driver’s shoulder, and i tickled the foot of the booster-seat -riding backseat-passenger until he yelped for mercy too.
P.S. For the record, i'm proud and willing to count as feminist. And also for the record, unconcerned when affection trumps ideology.
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