Not Fair

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Dragon drops her dance bag in the hall

and slumps on to the sofa.

‘I didn’t realise you were taking classes on Tuesdays,’ I say,

putting down the book I’m reading.

Tippi looks up and mutes the TV.

‘I’m teaching the little ones

in exchange for my own lessons,’

Dragon says. ‘Didn’t I tell you?’

‘No,’ Tippi and I say together.

‘We didn’t know that.’

We watch the silent screen,

the characters’ mouths

opening and closing,

their desires lost on us.

Mom comes into the sitting room.

‘There’s ravioli on the stove, Dragon,’ she says.

‘Did you know Dragon was working?’ Tippi asks.

Mom nods. ‘No harm in her pulling her weight,

is there?’

‘And what about us? Should we get jobs too?’ Tippi asks.

‘It’s not the same thing,’ Mom says.

‘Don’t make this into an argument about your equality.’

She grabs the remote and laughter from the TV

fills the room.

But Mom doesn’t understand:

Tippi isn’t angry that we aren’t working;

she’s pissed off that our little sister

has to.

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