Sex role hypocrisy in Glenmoore!

Soon after writing the last post, I had to confront the fact that there is sexual hypocrisy in my own household. After parading through the house with requests for lemon juice, the children adjourned to our Adirondack chairs on the front patio (a flat slab of concrete under an awning can't really be termed a porch). Not long after this, Colin came in. "They ( Sian and one of her little girlfriends) are saying that if I want to play with them, I have to be a slave," he told me. Apparently Sian (her friend might boss around her little brother, but wouldn't do that to Colin) demanded that Colin fulfill her wishes for a certain number of weeks...months...or years? When I went out to see what was going on, and to free the slave, Sian and her buddy were languidly sipping lemonade (thus the lemon joice) and acting more like abolitionists than slave holders. Sian, of course, denied ever asking Colin to be her slave. After sternly telling them to cut it out, I went inside and brought out cookies-in the hopes that Sian might give up the role of tyrant for that of lady of the mansion-at least for that afternoon.