There are few things that rid me of any speck of motivation I may have as quickly as the thought of doing housework. It's amazing the number of things I need to cross off of my to-do list before I can vacuum the carpet or (God forbid!) clean the toilet. When a pile of dishes in the sink is looming, I suddenly find it pressing that I best someone across the globe in Mario Cart Wii, google "Nancy Grace", or even (as I'm doing now), start a blog.
I wonder, if June Cleaver had access to the internet in 1957, would she have had such a spick-and-span home, or would she have a blog devoted to women's lib with a picture of a burning bra on the title page? Would Beaver and Wally have trotted off to school in dirty, wrinkled shirts carrying PB&J sandwiches while she sat in front of the computer writing about the injustices plagued upon the female gender?
"Last night Ward came home stinking of whiskey again. I can't believe that he leaves me here to clean the toilets and cook dinner while he goes off to the men's club. Why can't he, for once, cook the dinner while I get a mani-pedi?"
I for one think that would have made for a much more interesting show.
1 comment:
I think it was all a farce anyway, even way back then.
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