I have a confession to make.
See, I have this secret dream of being the perfect housewife. Kind of like the stereotypical 50's housewife.
I want so bad to have the house constantly clean (but not spend all day doing it), make gourmet meals every night (does spaghetti count) and pamper my husband so he thinks he's the luckiest man alive, (which of course he does.) I'm pretty sure..
I've always thought, once I got married, I'd be the perfect wife, kind of like June Cleaver. Come to think of it she was really annoying. Scratch that. Make that Samantha Stevens. Of course she was a witch, which gave her an advantage, but still. I totally idolize her.
Who wouldn't love to be able to twitch up whatever they wanted? Even without her powers she still managed to run the household, be a gracious hostess, take care of Tabitha, put out all the fires her trouble making family members conjured up and still keep her cool. Yes I do realize I live in a fantasy world.
And for the record Dick York was the better Darren. And don't you just love Aunt Clara and Uncle Arthur? Oh okay I'll stop.
Sadly, I've come to realize that this dream will never come true.
Apparently I'm missing the domestic gene. Or at least part of it. I'm not a total slob and I do enjoy cooking, but for some reason I fail to make this a daily routine, preferring instead to spend my time blogging. :)
Besides, do you realize how much effort it takes to be perfect 50's housewife? Take a look....
I could never follow those rules, besides being antiquated advise, (talk to your husband in low soothing tones? I didn't marry a dog. Take off his shoes and put on his slippers? What is he, helpless?), it's just too much work.
The truth is, I'm lazy. The strange thing was, I honestly thought I was a domestic goddess.
For instance, when my husband and I first moved in together, I cleaned the house, did the laundry everyday, and made meatloaf and pork chops for dinner. Life was perfect and blissful.
These days? Not so much.
I spend quite a lot of time watching t.v. actually. Preferring to fantasize about my perfect domesticity rather than live it.
Like right now, I should be doing the dishes, making chocolate chip cookies, doing the laundry, and cleaning up the bedroom. But why do that now, when I can put it off until tomorrow?
Besides Family Guy is on...