Fact: The Good Wifes Guide was published May 13, 1995, in a magazine entitled Housekeeping Monthly. It was an article that explained how to keep your husband happy and what exactly constituted a good wife.
Fact: According to the Wikipedia article of the same name, it’s rumored to be a hoax and has been studied by urban legends site snopes.com
Fact: Cant anyone just look it up?
I’ve been thinking lately about the problems that face our society. Things like obesity, an ever climbing divorce rate and increased numbers of children failing to garner proper education from school systems, just to name a few. It seems to me that in the last 40 years there have been a lot of changes and a lot of results due to those changes. But why does it seem like everything went downhill oh so fast? It’s relatively easy to point the finger at Clinton or Bush or Obama, to thumb nose organized crime, fast food and Maury or blame it on the evolution of man. I however have a new theory. It’s what I like to call…
The Disappearing Housewife.
My basic premise is this. Back in the day when gender roles were clearly assigned, workloads were divided evenly and therefore the attention necessary to perform duties was able to be given. Now that more and more people are out in the world working, less and less time is being spent in the home. Due to this fact, the home life suffers.
See we currently live in a backwards society and we can thank capitalism and globalization for that. What I mean is that we live to work instead of work to live. Before we get to the housewife, let me wax on this concept.
This is how the world and you, a little cog in its machine, work…
You are human. You desire a house, a car, a family, food, clothing, and fun things like big TVs and hookers. American dream, right? Okay, maybe not hookers with the whole family thing… but you get the idea. You want enough money to buy everything and then still have enough to blow. So what do you do? You get a job.
You go out into the world of work and you find yourself a job doing something that most likely you hate but it allows you to move out of your parent’s house or the back of that Oldsmobile you’ve been sleeping in for the last year. You get an apartment.
So you’ve got this living abode and you realize that your old boat of a car isn’t a very nice coffee table. And it’s not doing so well in its old age. So you buy furnishings to put in your apartment, and realize you have 200 a month left over after food and bills. You get yourself a schnazzy new or pre-owned car.
Now, whoa buddy, apartment, food, clothing, bills, car, and hookers. Great!
Oh shit. You forgot the insurance. And how much gasoline is going to cost you. Damn. Oh well, you can do without the hookers. Then you forget a payment on that awesome rent-a-center couch and Xbox and your interest rates skyrocket. You have no choice but to take on some more hours at work and try to get your bills back under control.
It goes on this way until one night you come home to your living room filled with trash and crunchy porno mags strewn about the floor, a dog with fleas and a spot on the floor that seems to be alive. The air smells like feces and testicles have been holding hands and jumping in puddles of urine. You sit down on your couch and hear the crunch of beer cans. Just then, it hits you.
This shit is gross.
And you begin to ponder why…
Your apartment isn’t disgusting because you’re a disgusting person. A contraire. Your apartment is disgusting because you’ve been working insane hours and by the time you get home all you want to do is sit down, drink beer, jerk off and play videogames. Really, who can blame you? Your job sucks. Your boss is a horrible manager. The people you work with you wouldn’t shake hands with on the street. Uncle Sam can’t keep his fingers out of your paychecks. You hurt. Your brain is mush. There is no such thing as spirit at this point. You have everything you want, but you’re not able to enjoy it.
You are living to work. Not working to live.
This brings me to the housewife.
From the mid 60’s backwards there was this thing called a housewife. She stayed at home and did all those home things for you. She made it a point to look nice, dress well, make hot delicious meals, clean up, and give a damn about you. Why did we get rid of her?
I mean seriously. People have always been interested in gadgets and artificial intelligence to do our household chores but as my boyfriend says “Who wants a housecleaning robot? Fuck that. I want my robot to go to work for me.”
It’s so simple isn’t it? The truth is that 99% of people don’t WANT to be at work. They work to take get and maintain all this stuff in their lives that will make them happy and then never really get to fully enjoy them. We work so much that by the time we get home, we usually don’t have anything left to really give to ourselves. Healthy meals are replaced by pizza pockets and microwave popcorn, fresh sheets are left to screw washing them let’s just buy new, and a loving STD free woman is replaced by obliterated mascara smears that you drag in once in a blue moon.
The housewife provided so much to the world and was ever smiling and ever modest. As anyone who lives on their own can tell you, washing laundry, doing dishes, cleaning carpets, picking up trash, waxing floors and furniture, making beds, wiping mirrors, baking, frying, broiling, freezing, canning, heating, chilling, whipping and frosting are not the easiest jobs, and do not come without some knowledge. Just hand a man a newspaper and a bottle of vinegar. And really, who wants to do that after an 8 10 12 14 hour day?
No one. So we don’t. We don’t do it, it doesn’t get done. The comfort level drops.
Add children into the mix. Even if they have both parents. Which a lot of them do not.
We wonder why kids have bad mouths and are fat and lazy? What do they see at home? They see a parent or parents that come home, tired. Grumpy from another day in Shitsville, USA. Worried and stressed because they’re not getting the time they need for themselves, and can’t find enough time to devote to their children. They throw fried fish or pizza or tater tots in front of the kids because the kids are addicted to sugar and carbs and parents do not feel like fighting over green beans. Television and videogames are an excellent way to make sure you know where your kids are and what they’re doing. Set them in front of the TV, hand them a controller and let them hack and slash their way out of the hands of that creepy guy across the street.
It’s pretty easy and really it’s very understandable.
However, being easy and understandable doesn’t make it right.
We need housewives, and househusbands.
I’m not talking about that lazy ho who lays on your couch all day watching Jerry Springer and then starts bitching as soon as you get in the door. The one who never changes her clothes and screams at her kids so all the people in the building can hear.
I’m talking about a woman, diligent and organized. One of quiet cunning and care. A woman who can smile and just by that smile she can light up a room or make you crawl face first into a hole and die. She doesn’t need profanity or rumor and is, in fact, above it. A woman in charge and responsible. Someone you can count on. Someone you WANT on your side. A bearer, not a burden.
It is my opinion that those who work out in the world deserve a kind smiling face when they walk in the door. They deserve to get out of the monkey suit and slip into some comfort. To be valued and cherished, to be thought of and listened to. They deserve that clean home and delicious meal. Why can’t they have that?
This is what I’m talking about clearly defined roles. There was a time when man was a provider/ protector, and woman was a provider/caretaker. Men went out into the workforce and provided money for the home. They protected their women from harm of all kinds. They were strong and thoughtful, respectful. True GENTLEmen.
Women provided comfort and care. They cared for the children, and did the shopping. They made sure there were no holes in your underwear and that you always had a mate to your socks. They made sure the house was clean and the fire stoked. They provided a listening ear and someone to talk to away from the world of work. Someone who valued YOU. Not your team. YOU. Housewives provided the little things which seem little but are actually vital to the sanity and happiness of the human collective.
I know this probably has some feminists in a panty-runch but I’m pro-women’s rights. Damn right I want the right to vote and to work. I want the right to wear pants and smoke cigarettes on the street and I want the right to decide what I can do with my body.
However I don’t think it’s sexist to desire a return of the housewife. If anything I think it’s more feminist than a bulldyke parading braless with liberal lipstick lesbians. I think Gloria Steinem should perk an ear to this. Why?
Because housewives were given the ultimate ability to express their own feminity. That’s right. I said it. I guess this isn’t true if your definition of feminimity is wearing daisy dukes with the optional camel toe, or fucking 5 guys on primetime in night vision. It is true however if feminity can be defined by the ability to care for others, including your children. To provide nutrition and care, Band-Aids and cupcakes to those in need. To wear lipstick and heels and not be a trashy slut. . To devote yourself to the pursuits of happiness for your husband and yourself.
Maybe I’m old school, but I can’t find a more sensible relationship and I don’t see anything wrong with wanting to devote yourself to your partner. To give them everything you’ve got. To care for them like they’re caring for you. I think divorce rates would plummet due to a rise of the housewife.
I mean that. I honestly think that if we could get away from angry ass husbands and wives coming home to fight each other, or never seeing each other, or being too stressed or tired to fuck; divorce rates would drop. A human being can only do so much. In today’s society, we can’t do it alone. That’s why we need the housewife.
Our families are starved for love and attention. Our socks need mending. Our houses need care. Our gardens need tending and so do our husbands so that when they are home they can enjoy the lives they’re working so hard to provide us with.
Is it really too much to ask?
What do you think?
saywhatsayward 