There have been very – extremely – very rare times when Hamid tried to say, "You can't do that."

My response is always, in my most deeply Southern, Granny don't play that (my Gran certainly didn't), most arch tone, "Just who do you think you're talking to?"

LOL Hamid used to call me, "Khonom mushé" in Farsi as an ironic pet name. It means "Mrs. Mouse" – he called me that because I was anything but mousey.

By the time Hamid and I met, I had mostly overcome the Pauline scriptural submissive crap with which my mother tried to brainwash me. I have my Gran and my best friend (and son's godmother) to thank. It also probably helped being a beard and moving in those circles in college.