Flipping over that impossible, towering, seven-foot gate just happened. I was leaping up with all the force of my running leap, grabbing the pipe at the top and, flying over feet first before any thought or reason. It was the only way to catch up to Jared, my brother. He was going to outrun me to show me that he was not meant to do house work and I was.

If I climbed over that gate he was clambering up leg over leg the way he was, he would be out of the yard, around the corner, and out of sight snickering, or silent. But, he would have got away with not admitting to unfairness.

If he got away, I’d have lost the element of surprise. So, next time I brought it up he would be prepared and I’d be made ridiculous.

Just because the grownups make only girls do the housework, while you boys don’t have to do anything, doesn’t mean its right. You can pick up a broom sometimes, too.

Well?

I don’t have to talk about this. No grownups are asking me to clean the house, and cook, and stuff.

I know they aren’t but they should. You get to explore all day, going on adventures, while I can’t do anything till all the food, and dishes, and floors are done, which means almost never. You could think about helping. Maybe, just do one job. Maybe sweep the porch.

I don’t have to. And, if I did, what would stop me from ending up with more, and more chores?

You mean like me?

Yeah, like you.

No, you don’t have to, but it would be fair.

I don’t want to talk about it, and you can’t make me.

Off he trotted.

Come back, this is important.

You’d have to catch me.

Now that was impossible.  He could evade five or six fast kids bigger than him.

Being laughed at when I failed to even get close to catching him was almost as bad as doing all the housework, all the time.

Then, I just found myself chasing him in slow motion as fast as I could pound my feet forward. I was falling further and further behind as we approached the gate at the end of the long courtyard. He had plenty of time to climb it before I could even grab his leg.

He had to agree to sweep the front porch. So, then, Josh and Danny would fallow into doing one job each, as well. That would begin the long road to fairness.

When I landed next to him at the other side of the gate, he didn’t bother to squirm away or run. His eyes wore shock.

How did you do that?

Same way I’m gonna get you guys to help, was the unspoken truth.

Nothing came out.

The boys volunteered to do the sweeping that week. Dishes were still to much to ask.

Fairness, the need for fairness, flew me over that gate that day.

What propels flight now?