I want a wife.  But, not being a man, I can’t have one. It would be great to have someone slaving over a damn hot stove cooking me up some delicious vittles. And, to have my undies washed and folded and put away would be sheer ecstacy. 

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think that these things are just a woman’s job. But, it is the woman’s job around this oh-so-happy homestead. I am being sarcastic just in case you can’t tell.  I’ll admit that it’s my own fault. I insanely succumbed to the Leave It To Beaver way of life too many years ago. I set the mold and now I can’t break it. I try. Believe me…..I DO try. I go so far as to leave husband’s dirty undies on the floor in front of his shower where he leaves them. After, a week, I can’t take it anymore. I break. Looking at stained Fruit of the Looms for seven days running has that effect on me. I pretend that I’m not gonna cook but after 5 hours of not having a hot meal, I cave.

And….this behavior has a big negative effect on our cozy times. “wink wink” Who feels like doing sexual gymnastics after doing all of this plus the grocery shopping. I even buy my husband’s underwear. Because he won’t. And, folding drawers with only elastic left intact is not an easy task. There’s no technique taught in folding elastic with a couple of pieces of stained clothe hanging on. Yes, I’ve become a throwback to all things women fought not to do.

That’s why I would like to be an old lesbian. I mean a really old one. One that doesn’t have an interest in sex anymore. I’m just not attracted to women that way. And, if I were really, really old and a lesbian, I could probably get by with the “my head hurts” or “my arthritis in my knees are killing me” stuff.  Hey, I could handle a little cuddling with my own sex now and then if it meant that I’d have another cook and laundry woman in the house. Hell, I’d even kiss her now and then if she’d do the grocery shopping, too.

Yep, I’d like to be a really, really old lesbian. That would be just swell. Just as long as it’s not Rosie O.