Ryan was complaining about having to fold and put away his karate uniform.
He’d attempted it twice, and it looked a lot more like “wad up and throw in corner” than “fold and put away.”
So as I sent him back to try a third time, he whines: “I just can’t fold it. I’m not very good at girl jobs.”
Gasp!!! WHAT?!?! Did he seriously just say that?? A girl job?
He earned himself a new job of folding and putting away much more laundry that just his karate uniform.
He also inspired a new commitment in his mom to NOT raise a helpless man child who lives in filth all through college because he’s unaccustomed to doing simple “girl jobs.” There may also have been a teeny lecture wherein my 7 year old was very confused about why I was asking him if he wanted to still depend on his mommy when he goes to college. It seemed a productive conversation at the time.
I’ve been hmph-ing and muttering “girl job” under my breath for two days now. Maybe I’m cranky. He picked the wrong day to gender stereotype. Especially heinous for it to be about laundry, my constant and ever-powerful nemesis.