Archive for July, 2011

But Betty Never Laughs

A real woman always keeps her house clean and organized, the laundry basket is always empty. She’s always well dressed, hair done. She never swears and behaves gracefully in all situations and under all circumstances. She has more than enough patience to take care of her family, always has a smile on her lips, and a kind word for everyone.  I am beginning to suspect that I may be a man.

This is a post that I imagine has been doing the Facebook rounds for quite some time now.  And as usual, I am behind the times, as I hadn’t seen it before today.  I laughed quietly to myself at the irony as I read it through, and then out loud when I reached the last sentence.  If this is the sort of iconic fifties era woman I should aspire to be, I don’t have a chance.  Not even in hell.

I would rather smother my boys in kisses, or relish their gleeful laughter as they roll down a grass-covered hill, or listen to their enthusiastic whoops of joy as they stomp in a mud puddle, than to worry about what our roughhousing is doing to my hair, or the stains on their clothes, or the dirt they will inevitably track through the house.

Once or twice my bare feet may have stuck to the terracotta tile of our kitchen floor, and I’ve just sighed, shrugged my shoulders, and moved on.  My laundry basket can’t even be seen for the clean laundry overflowing, cascading, and piling around it.  I can’t ever seem to get it put away faster than it comes out of the dryer.  If it’s raining (which it usually is), and there’s no place we need to be, and nothing we need to do, I’ll joyfully declare a pajama day for all.  More than likely my hair is a mess.  I’ve been known to lose my patience and mumble a curse word or two under my breath.  Okay, maybe three or four, and it’s likely I wasn’t smiling kindly at the time, either.  So maybe I’m not a real woman.  Or maybe I am.

Let’s just say Don Draper wouldn’t consider me marriage material, and leave it at that.


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