I asked finally, "How did your family eat dinner? Was it always quiet?" he gave me a crooked look, as if he thought I'd gone mad. "Yes, we were quiet. We just ate our food. But, when we got older we sat in front of the TV. We watched sports. Dad liked to watch sports."
How intriguing. I asked if their mother got to cook, and serve, clean up and do other chores while everyone ignored her, watched games. His face already told me he thought it an odd question. In his yes I could see he thought that's what women are for.
I said, "I bet your mother was a happy woman."
I didn't mean it, and he knew. His mother had, at times, to go to a hospital to recuperate. They thought there was something wrong, unbalanced about her.
I think she wanted someone to talk to. Someone to see her. Someone to recognize her value.
This place is odd.