We’ve had our fair share of inequality
WOW! Why are women so bloody vilified? Just asking, following this week’s uproar over our new FEMALE (gasp! what? noooo!) Doctor Who, as well as the appalling discrepancy between male and female salaries at the BBC.
Did you notice, by the way, that the more feminine-looking the females are – Sophie Raworth, Louise Minchin, Tess Daly, Mishal Husain – the less they seem to merit salaries commensurate with their male, or even other female, counterparts, despite being at the top of their game?
Could it be that they’re regarded as rather more fragrant than competent, because they’re approachable rather than aloof, and are therefore taken advantage of?
Back in my kitchen, meanwhile, the war of the sexes has taken on a new twist. “I’m sick of those bloody feminists,” said one son. “No one’s going to watch Doctor Who now.”
“Ooh, I don’t know about that –I think I’m going to start watching it again now,” I sort of accidentally taunted.
“And anyway, there’d be no need for feminists if we rid the world of chauvinists. Like you and your brother.”
Oh yes, his brother – that’ll be the one who called me at 9.01 on Thursday morning, saying: “Mum, I’ve got no pants.”
“They’re all on your bedroom floor,” I retorted. “I told you to bring them down to the washing machine last night.” Where, of course, I’m supposed to be permanently posted – just like that policeman outside Number 10 – ready to open the door and push a wash in.
I felt a blood pressure surge. “I’m working. I’m not your slave, why don’t you call dad?”
“He’s at work.” That’ll be REAL work then. Men do real work. Women just play at it. It’s a hobby (that
He’d never call his dad at work if he couldn’t find his pants
line of thinking’s the reason why there’s ongoing gender wage disparity). He wouldn’t even dream of calling his dad AT WORK about underwear.
Why is the assumption that I, as well as paying the mortgage, half of the bills etc, am in charge of their dirty clothes, their food, their school stuff, important dates, dental appointments, passport renewals, travel passes etc? All for which I am totally under-appreciated because it seems to be regarded as my duty. “My job.”
Ha! I have a solution. Many, I’m sure, will recall the 1980s Two Ronnies series of sketches called The Worm That Turned – a prescient look to the future when women, sick of decades of being put down, put upon and held back, decided to fight back and take over the country.
Big Ben was renamed Big Brenda, the Union Jack became the Union Jill. Men in aprons and curlers answered to SHE who brought home the bacon.
Nearly four decades on from that imagined scenario, we still haven’t reached total parity. But we will. We WILL. Get over it.