Swipe right and let the gender politics begin

Going out,” says Middle Child, Hoovering up his dinner. “On a date with a bird I met on Tinder.” “No! Don’t say ‘bird’. That’s disrespectful,” says Youngest Child, before I can get in with any interrogation about interweb dating.

“Really?” he says. “I thought saying bird was OK – it’s a nice tweety thing. I like birds – the feathery ones, and the...”

“No! It’s not OK,” says Youngest. “It’s disrespectful and sexist.”

“Oh,” says Middle. “Not sort of complimenty then…” “No.” “What’s wrong with just saying ‘woman?’” I ask. “Nah, it’s too…” “What? It’s too what?” “Dunno. Woman. It’s…” “Too wimmin? Like feminist, like me?” “Er… OK, I won’t say bird, what should I say?” he asks, sidestepping nicely.

“Well, I quite like it when bus drivers call me ‘doll’,” I say, “and that doesn’t stop me being a RAGING feminist,” I add, just to wind anyone up who might object. Youngest gives me A Look. “Sad.” “Lassie,” says Youngest. “What’s wrong with calling us lassies? That’s what we say at school and it’s a good word, Scottish, it’s just what we say, and it’s not insulting to anyone.”

“OK, got to go and meet a lassie,” says Middle, and disappears.

“So,” I ask Youngest tentatively, as there have been previous disappointments and setbacks in our journey, “would you say you were a… em... a feminist… em… at all?”

“Yes. I would,” she shoots straight back mildly.

Yay! I do imaginary laps around the kitchen.

She continues: “I think it’s wrong the way things are.” Yay! More imaginary laps… “But I think men and boys are the way they are, and the world is the way it is, and…” Imaginary laps shudder to a halt. “What? Don’t you think we could fight to change things?” I say.

“Hmmm. Maybe. But right now, I’ve got to go.” She disappears as Eldest arrives. “Food. Yas!” he says. “Where’s the bro?” “Gone on a date,” I say. “Aw yeah, with that bird he met on Tinder.” “Well…” n