I am not the model housewife.
No, no, no.
When I was a newly minted mum and stay-at-home lady of the manor, I briefly flirted with the idea of being the quintessential 1950s housewife. Don't judge me, I was in the post-baby bubble and thinking I could do it all and do it all perfectly.
I fantasized about B never having to unravel the last sheet of toilet paper, to live in a world where he never saw the bottom of the cereal container, never hollered from the bathroom, "Are we out of toothpaste?" and always, always had clean undies and socks in his drawer.
I wanted him to think that I had it all completely sorted. Like a magic fairy.
I actually wanted to be the magic fairy.
Turns out 1950s housewives had shit boring lives and magic fairies work like dogs.
The whole thing was nutty and went completely against what I believe a woman's role should entail – and it was certainly never anything B expected of me himself.
Apart from being an impossible task in the first place, it's all for naught because when B wipes his arse with the magic perpetual toilet paper, I guarantee he isn't thinking, "Boy, this toilet paper is always at the ready for me. I never have to scrimp or go without. What a tight ship my little lady runs."
It's not even that he takes it for granted. He just doesn't think about it at all.
Which is kind of like taking it for granted….. hey, hang on a minute…
So yeah, I failed 1950s housewifery.
But in the time I spent on public forums in the lead up to and post-baby, I discovered there were many women still holding on to the dream.
I read in horror one woman's account of how she washed the towels EVERY SINGLE DAY. Apparently, her husband didn't like to use a towel more than once. He didn't like the smell. Hmm, yes, I imagine 'Neanderthal' and 'person who is single-handedly destroying the planet' has quite the stink about it.
B could dry himself with magic perpetual toilet paper before I even dreamed of washing towels once a day.
A dear friend who is actually an excellent homemaker and mostly enjoys the role obliged her beloved husband one day by cooking a meal made from some of the mountains of liver that he had excitedly purchased for a bargain price because actually, liver was awesome and he really loved it. She had deep misgivings but was an adventurous cook and willing to try anything once. When hubby returned home to a delicious and lovingly prepared liver dinner that had filled the entire house with the smell of piss, he decided, maybe, he wasn't the hugest fan of liver after all.
I used to make B keep his bananas in the car because the smell of them was so incredibly offensive to me. And also, I have a strict No Tuna policy. Sometimes I would quiz him about whether tuna had been on the lunch menu before kissing him when he returned from work each afternoon. Not. Kidding.
I read that one woman vacuumed her home three times a day. Because you have to what with kids and crumbs and whatnot.
Ummm, crumbs save me having to make snacks all day long. I thought we all knew this?
And finally, I don't want to shock you guys but it has come to my attention that some wives are STILL SHAGGING THEIR HUSBANDS.
I've been telling B this a myth.
Some wives? Are just traitors to the sisterhood…..