Gnashing of Teeth

As a sociology major, I fully support equal wages, women's rights, and all that liberation jazz. I understand the whole second shift thing working women have to put up with and generally think housework should not be relegated to the womenfolk. I believe that women's rights means more than equal pay and in many ways, men and women shouldn't be treated equally. But fairly.

However, I also believe in a child's right to be fed.

As in, I have been home since Monday night and Mother has only cooked twice since then (more like 1.5, since the first meal was just a composite of leftovers she had made before I arrived home). And we've gone out to eat only once. Even if we take breakfast out of the equation (and how can you, when it's the most important meal of the day?) that still leaves a lot of meals and a lot of gaps. Five, to be exact. I am hungry. I need sustenance. Somebody feed me. I would eat the leftovers that usually populate the fridge, but unfortunately, I've already eaten them clean. They were all I had to go on for five days. I have also had to cook for myself. And would happily continue to do so except a) lethargy and weakness, resulting from malnutrition, are keeping me from lifting the heavy pans and b) the kitchen is occupied and cluttered with foodstuff to be used for tomorrow's (or Monday's?) feast and I cannot get a foot in. Have resorted to sitting in front of the computer, bitterly chomping on a bag of Pocky sticks. Mother spotted me as I foraged the cupboards for other foods of substance (she had given away the bag of Sandies cookies I had bought) and offered to 'cook.' Ramen noodles or frozen pre-cooked potstickers? Those were her best offers, standing amidst a kitchen full of chicken and vegetables, soups and sauces. The irony of this hunger in the land of plenty, of course, was completely beyond my weary, feebled body, along with many other essential nutrients.