A Lesson in Equality from a Dirty Whore


My hearing tests as perfect.

Hy husband disputes those findings, but it’s been consistent over a decade. My hearing is perfect.

Last night I was messing around with my new-to-me dishwasher, while my son played in the living room. I could hear him talking and singing as he made Mario commit suicide, just for the wah-hoooooooooooos.

Then I heard it.

“Get up, you dirty whore!”

Now, I’m not a headcase about language. I never tell him words are “bad,” but I do teach him that he shouldn’t say certain words out of respect, and to avoid getting into trouble elsewhere.

But “dirty whore” stopped me. Or rather, “whore” did. I went from June Cleaver to Sheila Broflovski in a fraction of a second.

If you don’t know who Sheila Broflovskit is, here you go—it will only take 2 seconds of your time.

“What, what, what?”

“Nothing important,” he said.

“It is important. I know I don’t get mad at language very often, but that is totally not okay.”

He came out in the kitchen and looked at me.

“Why?”

“Because that is a word that a lot of people use to make women feel bad about themselves. It’s not cool. None of those words are okay. People are people, buddy, it doesn’t matter what color they are, what gender they are or anything else.”

He looked puzzled. So I kept going.

“You know that the only thing that determines if a person is good or bad is how they act, right?”

“I know that.”

“Right. Well words like that are used to make people feel like they are bad, or feel like other people think they’re bad. And you never want to make people feel like that, right?”

“Right. Mama, which word?”

“The one you just said wasn’t important.”

“I said, ‘Get that up off the dirty floor.'”

—-

“You did?”

“Uh-huh. You said not to leave the blankets on the floor.”

“Oh. Well, then…carry on.”

Miracle ear.

What?

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