On Balanced Feminism

This week was completely nuts.
Kumar was travelling for work. As luck would have it, I started having a scratchy throat last weekend that escalated to a terrible cold this week.
Don’t ask me how I got through this week. I don’t want to tell you that horror story.

Instead, I want to focus on my “balanced” feminism story.

I am 5 foot. I can’t reach the top of the pantry shelves or cabinets.
It doesn’t really matter.
The boys are always around to help me with that.

Despite my 5 foot lean and mean body, I am a powerful force to reckon with.
But, I don’t bother using that force on a bottle that won’t open easily when I am trying to cook in a hurry.
I don’t have to.
The boys are always around to help me with that.

Now, with that context, despite my feverish tendencies due to the cold, since I have responsbility to hold down the fort (when Kumar is away) and feed the boys, I started blending tomato and ginger to make some channa korma on Wed evening.
Then, I tried to open the lil blender.
It didn’t.
I used all the force in my feverish body to open the dang lil blender.
It still didn’t.

I just lost it.
I don’t know it was my fever or whether I was hallunciating because of my temperature…but tears started rolling down my eyes.
I felt tremendous sadness that none of the boys (Daddy, Kums, Shakthi or Ari) were around that evening to help me.
I truly missed their strength and presence at that moment.

Now, that brings me back to my “balanced” feminism observations.

I do believe women and men are equal.
But, I don’t have to prove that by trying to open a nearly un-openable pasta sauce bottle.
I leverage the strength of one of the boys who are ever willing to be their chivalrous selves and open the bottle for nothing in return but a peck on the cheek and my endearing words – “Thanks da Rascal. What would I do without you?”

Fast forward to today evening.
The boys got me some hot soup to help my cold feel better.
All is well that ends well.

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