I attended a Baby Shower today and one of the hostesses brought Chex Mix in a bowl. I laughed because it looked like the kind of appetizer I would bring.
I am the kind of person who gives gift cards, because they are easy, and they are always the right size.
At Christmas, I do not make homemade bows.
My blog is not decorated with photos of my handmade pillows.
I do not garden.
I do not own more than five skirts.
I don’t know how to use half the gadgets in our kitchen.
When my sister-in-law gave me a subscription to Southern Living, I faithfully cut out about twenty recipes, but I never actually prepared any of those meals.
I don’t go to Pampered Chef parties (willingly).
But I wouldn’t call myself a feminist. I just happen to be interested in other things. I am always amazed by women who seem to make everything they touch look like art. Their tables are set to perfection. They try a new recipe and turns out to be delicious. They paint stripes in their nursery and it looks like something in a catalog. They grow herbs in the kitchen and actually use them.
I have never been one of these women, but I wonder what it would be like to be them.
I wonder if they ever go to sleep with a sink full of dirty dishes. I certainly do. In fact, I am doing that right now. This is my last week to put cleanliness on the backburner, so good night dishes. Next week, when I start the 1950′s Wife Project, I will not neglect you, but tonight, I think I will enjoy the rest.