On Friday Teenboy and I were in the car driving to school. I didn't want to drive as I'm trying to cycle to work, and run, and row, and play tennis – since I started my fitness routine I've gained weight, don't give me all this "it's muscle" rubbish – Teenboy was expecting a lift to school and so had dragged his feet around the house. I, on the other hand was dressed like an athlete in search of some hurdles.
I like the time we spend together in the car. It's an enclosed space where we can talk to one another and I can squeeze his cheeks. When it's raining, or there is traffic, then that's even better.
It's the only time I get to legally trap him in one spot.
'We had PSHE yesterday and the teacher was talking about working mothers,' he began.
'That's interesting,' I said, 'what did she say?'
'That it works better if the man goes out to work and the woman stays at home and doesn't work.'
Teenboy goes to an all boys' school: there are no cookery lessons (domestic science) and I think this is because they expect the boys to get with the girls from the girls' school – and for the girls to cook for them. It's contemporary-archaic.
'I said to the teacher,' continued Jack. 'Well, what about all the single mothers in this country?'
Right on, I thought. Right on.
'What if there is no man at home?' he continued. 'Then those families wouldn't have any money at all.'
'Indeed, or what about the women who left their husbands and had never had a job, how would they find work?'
'And besides,' he added, 'I'm the only man in our house, so I told her: "I'm not going out to work."'
'And what did she say?'
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