So recent events/politics have brought out the raging feminist in me. Before this I was a little baby feminist. A la petit femme realist if you will. I’m not quite burning bras yet…..that’ll be next week or upon further discussion of repealing the 19th amendment or if I receive another unsolicited dick pic.
So who has been the brunt of this other than you dear reader? Mr. Magilla. Poor suffering bas……….Magilla.
He has found out first hand exactly how “manteruppting” is dealt with. Dont’ talk over me. I used to sing. I’ve got strong lungs. I promise you, I can get louder. The last tête-a-tête of manterruption played out like something out of “The Goldbergs” and I’m pretty sure I threw a wooden spoon. Whoopsie. Bygones………
He has found out that I do not care about Viagara ever, nor his rage against Ladies Night being a sham and definitely and not so much about his fishing addiction. I used to fan myself in feigned enthusiasm now I ask him to catch and cook my dinner.
He has found out that I hate washing cars.
He has found out that I still cook dinner and wear dresses.
He has found out that I have zero compunction on calling him out on being a gorilla if and when the need arises.
He has found out that I yell louder at Presidential debates than I do at football games.
His father worked two jobs and his mother stayed at home. They were and are an amazing team and the embodiment of “traditional family”; and though he probably wouldn’t admit it, I think he’s a closet feminist. I’ve heard him brag about me. I know the truth.
A proud email telling me that in his work world…….things were happening. Changes were taking place amidst his work dealings whether at his company or other businesses he was dealing with.
The title of this email?
Are you happy? I’m working with lots of broads. Powerful broads. Broads are great. I love broads.
Awww honey…………..and we love you. When you’re not manterrupting.