And probably some drill bits.” She was busy on her phone. “He says we can. He’ll even bring them over.” I looked at her. “What?” She asked...“I’m trying to figure out how to ask how you know this without sounding like a sexist pig.”“A girl can’t know how to use tools?”“Your mom and her perception of gender roles is a factor here.”She shrugged. “I took a woodshop class for the hell of it. It was that or Office Skills, whatever that is, or Photography, and mom was way too excited about me taking. M. when I walked Becky home we were feeling a sense of accomplishment. We had made the room ready for my occupancy but more important we had revived my mother from the depths of despair. She was actually enthused about the transformation of Heather's room. What's more, there was no doubt that she would return to work the next evening. Unsaid, but in the back of my mind, Heather's room had a door and offered more privacy than the sleeping bag on the living room floor.Becky must have been. More

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