Raising Feminist SonsYesterday afternoon I was happily doing my housewifey duties, which included me cleaning cat vomit off my newly re-done floors, and I overheard my 10-year-old chastising his younger sister over her choice in movie viewing:

You can’t watch that, that’s sexist. The way those girl chipmunks wear short skirts and dance around to Katy Perry, that’s really sexist. You should watch something else.

I mean, 10 points for Gryffindor for him being aware that scantily clad lady chipmunks shaking their little lady chipmunk booties like little lady chipmunk Miley Cyruses to saccharine pop music ditties is not the epitome of girl power. But the dude is taking his quest for equal rights for all people to sort of extreme extremes.

Like when I put on lipstick.

Mom, you don’t have to wear makeup. You are really beautiful without makeup on. Dad doesn’t have to wear makeup. That’s sexist.

When I cook dinner:

Mom, I know dad works and gets home late a lot but you work too and I don’t think it’s fair that you always have to do the cooking. That’s sexist. When I get married both my wife and I will cook. Even if we both work.

And when I purchase the food that goes into his little militant belly:

MOM, I know the cereal you pick always has guy mascots on it but could you maybe start buying cereal that has women on the boxes too? Why can’t that captain be a woman? MOM, you cannot tell me that rabbits can only be boys don’t the people who make this cereal know that women can also be rabbits and captains and vampires and leprechauns?

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I’m happy my little guy is exploring his own identity and principals and absorbing the issues that I personally care about into his own little life code. But it’s gotten to the point where I spend a lot of time explaining to him how some of the things he is concerned about being “sexist” aren’t really “sexist” and how he doesn’t have to constantly be the sexism police of every aspect of everything he encounters. He is danger of becoming a mansplainer.

I love how all of my kids are starting to form their own views about what is right and wrong in the world, how all people should be treated equally regardless of race, sexual orientation and gender, and how my son is really concerned about equal rights for women. I am wacky in love with my son, and I’m happy he cares so much about this issue. It’s just getting to be a bit much. He’s his mama’s boy, just taken to a really militant extreme where everything from breakfast cereal to television to what shoes my daughter puts on to Barbie is questioned.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find my copy of Revolution From Within. I have a feeling it’s under my son’s bed.

(Photo: Rylie Rasler)