Who Is Going To Marry You?
I told them he was right and that I wished someone had told me that sooner
Welcome back to Good Life, a newsletter about navigating our modern culture and staying sane in the process. This week, we discuss how important it is for women to live in peace.
Enjoying this newsletter? Share it with your friends and family! And if you’re one of those friends or family members, you can sign up to get your own copy every week right here.
Who Is Going To Marry You?
Like many Southerners, our family was snowed in this weekend. Well, less snow and more ice and sleet. Regardless, this meant we would be trapped in the house, unable to leave. Luckily, I went to the store a few days earlier to prepare. I had planned the perfect menu. Plenty of warm appetizers and snackable desserts, plus a wide variety of warm dinner staples.
When I picked the girls up from school Friday, I ran down the menu and the weekend’s schedule with them. As they began getting excited about the cozy food, games, and movies I had planned, I told them this level of fun would come at a cost.
“In order to eat a single dessert this weekend, I want the house cleaned tonight. But not just clean. I want it ‘company is coming’ clean,” I told them.
Immediately, their eyes began shifting back and forth between the four of them. A silent sigh was hanging heavy in the car. After a long week, no one wants to come home to clean, much less do a Southern mother’s version. I wanted toilets, sinks, and showers scrubbed within an inch of their lives. I wanted sheets washed, beds made, floors swept, mopped, and vacuumed. Baseboards wiped down, picture frames dusted, and all the living room blankets cleaned.
It was clear that not a single girl was interested in this plan. And to be honest, I don’t blame them. I had a long week too, and the last thing I wanted to do was get on my hands and knees and scrub. However, unfortunately for them, I had to go into their bedrooms and bathrooms the day before and saw the state they had left them in.
The girls occupy the entire upstairs. They are old enough now that I do not bother going up there unless someone is sick or there is an emergency. So really they can blame their oldest sister, who had forgotten to grab her basketball practice clothes. Because without my little trip into what can only be described as a dystopian wasteland, I would have likely said let’s just hunker down and prepare for the winter storm.
But for an entire day, I sat and stewed over the state of their living quarters. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the only way to start the weekend off right was to make sure the house was spotless.
Before any of the girls had a chance to utter a word of disappointment, I quickly asked, “When was the last time y’all cleaned the upstairs?”