Ian looked over my shoulder, hung his arms around my neck as I checked my e-mail. This is his way of telling me that his morning chores are finished.
He noticed the Google Doodle: three faceless women in red, green, and violet. One held a stethoscope, one wore a mortar board, and one possessed nothing more than long, flowing hair, because women are fabulous even without accessories.
‘Oh,’ he said, and rested his head on my shoulder. ‘Is there an International Men’s Day?’
His head popped up. ‘Whaat!’