October 25, 2011

Dirty Little Secret

One of my earliest memories, and not the one of my childhood kitten named Butterscotch eating a squirrel, is of a wedding. I am pretty sure it was my Aunt Cindy, the first one on my mom’s side to get married; you know, after my mom. I was a flower girl, and I felt every part of the magic of that day. Some time between the eating and dancing, right before I was herded into the childs room for the night, my uncles all crowded around me and asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I have never before known so fully %100 the answer to any question than I did that day. I piped up full of confidence and squeaked out “a housewife!” they all laughed.

What was wrong with that answer? I remember being bewildered. I remember growing up, and everyone always asking that terrible question, I knew the answer I wanted to give – but they might laugh. TBF would probably drop dead or spit his beer all over his computer screen if he read this. He is already so sure I’m going to quit my job if we ever get married, I’ve had to talk him off that ledge a couple of times. Every time I do, I think of that day when all my Uncles laughed. I was so damn sure of myself.

Please don’t give me your equal rights B.S. please don’t think I’m brainwashed into thinking I don’t deserve anything better. I want you to think. Sit back and think, is it so bad? It’s a hard friggen job for one thing, for another, it’s dedication! I mean, if I got to rule the universe for a day this is so the job I would pick and here are my reasons why. [Important note: I did not say mother and housewife, I only said housewife.]

I would have a food garden, chickens, and a cow.
I would can, dry, and store food in a cellar.
I would make my own cheese, tomato sauces, salsa and jam.
I would always be ready for a zombie apocalypse.
I would look good! Hair, nails, skin, clothes.
I would make my own clothes.
I would grow my own cotton and make my own fabric. (Maybe not.)
I would clean, organise, and enjoy every last second of it.
I would reupholster furniture when I got bored with the color.
I would have flower gardens, that would negate my hating the fact that I never get flowers bought for me.
I would take sick pride in all of this.
I would write a book while having a daily bath. In my own cow’s milk and hony bath bombs I made myself. Maybe I would keep bees!

Why not do all this now? Oh I know you’re just dying to ask that question. You want to know how much time that all takes? Way to long that’s how. You want to know how much time I currently have at my disposal? Not that much. I want to be a friggen house wife. So sue me.

sigh-ning off.

moi