‘A Great Day For Women’ says the headline. It's the first time a woman has been appointed to such high office.
His voice intrudes:
‘Ha! No more excuses, huh?’
I look blank.
‘No more excuses for all you women who say you don't get a fair deal – except that you do.’
He grins with gritted teeth, and brandishes the newspaper in my face.
Later he wants to talk again of his childhood.
‘I understand it now. I came here to understand. I realise I had an insane mother. That shaped me. I had to get away. If I'd had the resources, that time I left when I was younger… It was only lack of money that made me come back home.’
He was eight at the time. I tell him he left in a rage because of not getting his own way. He'd wanted to stay up late, and his Dad and I said no. He came back defiantly a few minutes later, saying it was too dark now, he’d leave in the morning. In the morning, none of us mentioned it.
At this information, he yells:
‘OH YEAH?’
and as I turn to do my online banking, he squirts water from a spray bottle right in my face and thumps my keyboard repeatedly, hard.
Now he is 39.
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