Another day, another sexual harassment headline. It’s all so overwhelming and sad and just really disappointing to see successful men fall from grace so swiftly.
My mom called the other day to express her distress over the CreepFest unfolding every day in the news. “Isn’t it shocking to see all of these stories come out?”
“No,” I said.
“Oh,” she said.
It was clearly not the lengthy conversation she was expecting. But I can think of several things that have surprised me more this week than these ongoing stories. For instance:
- I went to buy someone a birthday card at Papyrus the other day and it was $9.99. THAT’S TEN DOLLARS FOR A CARD. If I wanted to spend that kind of dough I would’ve gotten her a gift.
- I put a bowl of holiday candy in my living room and my 5-year-old didn’t notice for hours. She can practically smell chocolate on your breath over the phone, so this was kind of amazing.
- I made quinoa the other day. That’s right, Martha – I can quinoa. I had been avoiding it due to the high-maintenance instructions. It needs to be rinsed 5 times! That’s cleaner than my kids. The recipe also said to ‘rub the grains’ and ‘let them settle.’ Should I play soft music for the quinoa? Does it need a blanket?
In the end it was good but then I dropped an entire bowl on my rug which took forever to clean up because it sticks to every fiber, so quinoa is back on my shit list and I’ll probably never make it again.
So you see, dear mother, these things are all surprising to me. I was not expecting them = I am surprised by them. But the bar is so low when it comes to male pattern perviness that I dare say it’s more surprising when a man is respectful, no?
And while that is depressing and disturbing, I am hopeful that real change is in the air. Not just because some men are finally getting what they deserve, but because there is an entire generation of young girls who are listening and learning. Their brains are being rewired thanks to the ugly but important conversations they are exposed to around current events.
I was horrified last year when I had to tell my 8-year-old what the word “p*ssy” means in the context of the man who was elected to be our president. But then a few months later she brought home her third grade report about a topic that I did not really think or write about until I was in college.
I would say it was a pleasant surprise, but I wasn’t really surprised by this either. But I was definitely pleased.