“What did I miss?" he asks, smile falling at the tension at the table.
Mom crosses her arms. She turns her ire on my father. "Centuries of pressuring women to be agreeable and conform to unrealistic emotional expectations."
"That doesn't seem fair." My father frowns.
"You're telling me," Mom huffs. Her jaw sets. I'm sure she's daydreaming about mutiny. Burning down the patriarchy. You know, little things.”