I’m eating some chicken soup my mother made (yes, true!) while reading an article online, when I decide to ask my mother the big question that will finally decide the course of Western history.
Me: Mom, are you a feminist?
Mom: Uh, what do you mean?
Me: Do you consider yourself a feminist?
Mom: Well, I always worked as a woman.
Me: That doesn’t mean you are a feminist. Do you believe in equal pay for men and women?
Me: And do you believe that both a man and a woman can be the boss?
Mom: Of course. I was an office manager.
Me: Will you vote for a woman president?
Mom: Sure. Like Hillary Clinton. But it’s not like I’m going to vote for that Kardashian woman just because she’s a woman.
Me: Do you think a feminist should look a certain way? Like not wear lipstick or shave her legs?
Mom: She could do what she wants. I mean, eventually, she’ll probably have to shave her legs at least once. If she wants to date. Or before her wedding.
Me: And what do you think about the different roles of mothers and fathers?
Mom: Well, I do believe that a parent should stay at home with a young child.
Me: Aha! Gotcha! So, you think a mother should stay at home?
Mom: No, it could be the father.
Me: Interesting. So it doesn’t matter?
Mom: I think women tend to have a better touch with young kids, but if the woman makes more money than her husband, what’s the difference? As long as one of them stays home.
Me: Hmm… so, isn’t it a bit hypocritical considering that you didn’t follow your own rule. You and dad both worked. You weren’t always home for me. Is this why I’m in therapy?
Mom: No, you’re in therapy because you’re crazy. I DID stayed at home until you went to first grade. Don’t you remember?
Me: Not really.
Mom: And then when I worked in the city, you always had your Grandma Annette to go to after school in case I had to work late.
Me: Still sounds like I was a latch-key child without a home. I’m blaming feminism for giving me social anxiety.
Mom: Maybe, but remember this, with both of us working, at least we were able to afford to send you to an expensive college. Where you ended up studying poetry.
Me: OK, well, thank you for that. And talking about college. Here’s a big issue today. Do you think both men and women are equipped to study in fields such as math, science, and engineering?
Mom: I wish YOU had studied in math, science, and engineering rather than being an English major who spends time taking photos on his iPhone. Maybe that’s why you’re in therapy!
Me: So you believe women belong in technology?
Mom: Mrs. Kubota’s daughter, Grace, works in Silicon Valley and sends her mother on a cruise every year. So, yes, women can work in match, science, and engineering.
My mother goes into the kitchen.
Mom: Would you like some more soup?
Me: No, thanks.
Mom: Are you sure? There’s only a little left.
Me: Mom, we are talking feminism here.
Mom: So, you can’t be a Jewish mother and a feminist?
Me: OK, I’ll have some more soup.
My mother pours me some more soup.
Me: And while we’re at it, let’s discuss cooking at home? Do you think that is more a job for a wife than a husband?
Mom: Ha Ha, no.
Me: So why didn’t Dad ever cook? You did all the cooking. That wasn’t fair.
Mom: Well, that’s me marrying wrong. Or the fault of Grandma Annette for never showing your father how to make anything other than a peanut butter sandwich. That’s how it was back then. But today, men love to cook. When you watch Top Chef, half of the best chefs are men, so I sure hope they are also making dinner at home for their wives. In fact, this weekend, I’m showing you how to make a brisket.
Me: What about cleaning? Why do women do more of the cleaning at home? That’s also not fair.
Mom: Now THAT has to change. The biggest scam ever created. By men.
Me: So you ARE a feminist?
Mom: Yes. And I think cleaning the house equally should be the top priority.
Case Closed. My mother is a feminist.