I often joke that I am a 1950s Housewife. I don't work, my 'job' is to purely to manage the house, the kids clean and fed and my husband happy. My name is not on the house or the cars. I have no assets. I am a kept woman.
People often ask me how I feel about it. Basically, I trust my husband. We have been together for over 16 years, and if anything bad did ever happen with our relationship, I am protected.
Anyway, my 1950s moments came to a head this afternoon, and I loved it.
We came home from school after dropping one of Ardyn's friends home. The girls went straight upstairs and started their homework. I put the kettle on and made a coffee and read the paper before starting dinner. No TV, no radio. Lovely.
I made the kids a dinner which they promptly ate without complaint (and I found it very hard to believe that they were my kids), then got themselves ready for their shower. Again, without complaint. (WTF!!)
By the time Cal got home from work, the kids had done their homework, had a play, were fed, clean and in their PJs, I had a roast in the oven and the kitchen and most of the house clean, and the three of us were sitting around the coffee table playing a very fun game of "Go Fish".
He walked through the door to a very loud greeting of Daddy!!!!
No TV. No radio. No computer. Smiles. Hugs. The smell of a home cooked meal in the oven. Happy wifey (the most important thing).
After the kids went to bed, we sat down to our roast and a glass of wine, and then he left me.
Off on a business trip for a few days. Late flight out.
I'm sure that the next few days won't be as blissful (for me), but at least he left with memories of a semi-prefect family.
Tonight I was the perfect 1050s housewife (minus the fresh lipstick, round skirt and apron). And I liked it.