Every time someone says you can’t do that to a boy, the stock retort is they used to make girls do it, and that’s all the justification needed. “Not all the time though.” Luke claimed. “They’d have only worn heels for special occasions.”

“Were you there?” his sister smugly asked.

“No but…”

“So you don’t know then do you?” she spat. “Women spent centuries in heels and corsets, kowtowing to their so-called masters, preening and prettifying themselves, living on their knees, begging for basic human rights…”

“Yeah, spare me the history lesson.” Luke mumbled. He felt a hand strike his face. “Ow!” he whined as his palm reached his smarting cheek.

“Don’t talk to me like that boy!” his sister spat. “Who do you think you are?!”

“Sorry… but I’ve heard it all before.” Luke said. “I know women had it bad but we have it bad too.” he told his sister.

“You don’t have it bad at all.” she said. “Boys get all the easy jobs and women have to work for years to get their career.”

“Doing the chores isn’t easy… and I’ve just had a really hard day at work!”

“Well I’m not surprised that you think the housework is too taxing… you are just a boy after all.” she said. “But ask yourself this before you think a task is hard… how many years of study do you need to do before you can do it?” she asked him. This was another thing that was often trotted out to stop the boys moaning about their menial labours.

“They teach domestic science in school.” Luke replied in his defence. “If it was as easy as you make out they wouldn’t have to.”

“Only because boys are hard of thinking.” she retorted. “They don’t teach it at university do they?”

Luke couldn’t be bothered arguing with his sister. But she’s right. They don’t teach domestic science at university, or college for that matter, and these days, the only chance a boy has of getting into a college or university is if he’s cleaning it.

“Was there anything else?” his sister asked. “Or were you just disturbing me to show me how smart you look.” she asked, looking him up and down.

“Err.. yeah.” Luke glumly replied.

“Well you may as well take my laundry down whilst you’re here.” she said, opening her bedroom door fully so her brother could enter.

“Don’t you have a hamper?” he asked, seeing laundry all over the floor.

“I do but Dad hasn’t been putting it in the hamper.” she said.

“It’s not exactly hard.” Luke said as he grabbed her empty hamper and began tossing her discarded clothing into it.

“I never said it was hard, I said it was Dad’s job.” she sneered. “It’s Mum’s fault really. She’s far too lenient on him.” she claimed.

“Oh you’re a good boy Luke.” his mother said as he returned downstairs carrying his sister’s laundry. “Did she like your uniform?”

“Erm… I think so.” Luke replied, but couldn’t recall her actually saying so. “She said I needed some eye make-up.“

“I was thinking much the same thing.“ his mother replied. “Didn’t they give you any?“

“Just lipstick and foundation… they said eye make-up was optional.“ Luke replied. “Good job really because I wouldn’t have a clue how to put it on.“

“Well when you get paid you’ll have to buy some, then either me or your sister will show you what to do.“

“I doubt she’ll show me.“ Luke replied. “She slapped me across the face before!”

“I thought I heard something… what did you do to deserve that?” his mother asked.

“Nothing.” Luke claimed. “She just started lecturing me and all I said was ‘spare me the history lesson’.”

“Well you shouldn’t speak to people like that Luke.” his mother advised. By ‘people’ she means ‘women’ and whenever a woman strikes or otherwise reprimands a male it’s always the male who’s in the wrong. “Make sure you apologise to her.” his mother advised.

“Why is it me who should apologise?” Luke defensively whined. “She hit me?”

“Because you were talking down to her.”

“She’s twelve!”

“And you’re sixteen so you should know better.” his mother reminded him.