This is what a feminist looks like

So the kids're into a new-to-them show, a bland and ultra-formulaic computer-animated thing apparently written by Google scriptbots, called Paw Patrol. It stars six "pups" -- as in, puppies -- and one teenage (?) boy who is their ... idk, their minder? Scout leader? Whatever, he's the one who receives the incoming distress calls of various types at HQ, comes up with a plan, and gives the pups their orders, after which the day is, inevitably, saved (often, this involves apps, like on an iPad -- it's kind of confusing). There's a Moustache Pete type character (who does not have an Italian accent), and the town's mayor is a black woman, so -- I guess there's diversity kind of? Anyway, all the pups have cute short sassy names (e.g. Rocky -- I'm pretty sure Rocky is one of them) and some type of special skill with equipment to match, all of which are called into action -- COLLABORATIVE action -- with each mission. Aside from its general kiddie-show banality, my main beef with it was that there's just one female pup. Really, Paw Patrol? Grrrr.

But so then one night at dinner, Kid Gleemonex, age six, randomly muses, "I love Paw Patrol. But only one of the pups is a girl."

I say, "Yeah -- you noticed that too, huh?"

"Uh-huh," she says, with champion-level eyebrow. Then, sunnily and with an air of utter conviction: "But it's OK. She can fly."