A little secret.
As a child…I idolized Mrs.. Cleaver.
I was not content in my admiration for her….I decided I was going to BE her, someday.
I would wearing pearls while I made scrambled eggs for breakfast…my makeup would still be fresh when the kids came home from school.
I would be soft spoken…patient…and ever prepared to give the kids a homemade after school snack.
My floors would be chronically clean.
I would have the answer to all problems…and I would think before I would speak.
Dinners would be grand every evening…and I would refill Beav’s and Wally’s milk before it ever got too low.
As it turns out…
Not only do I not wear pearls when I make scrambled eggs…I am usually am not wearing a bra,either.
My makeup is fresh after school…only because I showered at 2 pm.
I am out spoken…impatient…and my kids usually have to scrounge for an after school snack.
My floors? Well, my chair sit in a pile of trampled kettle corn…as I type.
I have the answer to all problems…but it’s usually the wrong answer. I usually speak before I think.
Dinners sometimes involve paper plates and last minute take-out calls…and I tell Beav and Wally to get their OWN stinkin’ milk.
Sweet Mrs.Cleaver passed away on Saturday.
It really made me sad and reminded me of everything I hoped to be…once upon a time.
Tonight at dinner, I told Tom that she had passed…that I was sad…and that I had always wanted to be like her.
I then said, “Well THAT obviously didn’t happen….”
He quickly responded,"It DIDN’T. And do you want to know WHY???”
“Why?”, I asked.
“Because Hollywood was founded on a BED OF LIES!”
I love him more than ever.
He’s right.
It WAS all a bunch of crap.
Like we REALLY believe that she and Ward slept in two, separate twin beds.
Yeah right, June.
We ALL know the truth.
I really want a strand of pearls. I would totally wear them doing dishes, but for totally different reasons. She probably wore them cause it was the expected standard dress code. I would wear them doing dishes cause, HEY, I HAVE PEARLS!! I would wear them to Wal-mart and the Gas Station.(Which would probably sometimes help strangers decide their debate as to whether I was a man or woman.) I would wear them with sweats and probably to bed ala Wilma Flintstone. Cause HEY, I HAVE PEARLS! Jeff has until our 25th wedding anniversery to get me some.
ReplyDeleteI think you are a much better version of Mrs. Cleaver. I want to watch your show, in fact sometimes I feel like I get to and I LOVE it!
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