I’m not exactly the domestic type. I love hosting parties and preparing food and that kind of thing, but when it comes to the basic household stuff, I’m kinda crappy. I tend to miss big particles when I was dishes, I can’t iron properly and I’ve had countless disagreements with a number of people (SOs, my mother) about proper techniques for folding laundry. And don’t get me started on critiques of my bed-making.
This could be part of why I always assumed I’d be an eternal bachelorette or else it’s that fear of marriage that’s kept me from cultivating my domesticity.* Although, I am, however, exceptionally good with children although more in the super fun babysitter or aunt kind of way than maternally. And I don’t care for babies much. And I used to love to bake but lost interest when I went GF, somewhat ironically.
I’ve always sort of fantasized about being a Ward Cleaver-type who goes to work each day in a suit and comes home to a newspaper, slippers and supper on the table. I’m all for old-fashioned 1950s family values so long as the stereotyped positions are reversed. No, I’m kidding. None of these constructs really holds much value these days. Still, if I could afford to be the breadwinner and have a stay-at-home SO, I’m not sure I’d exactly protest. Might be nice…..maybe I should just train Ruby to get my slippers and pour me a glass of wine instead.