I thought you’d get a kick out of this 70’s commercial inspired piece I wrote some years back when our house was full, chaotic, and I was still the primary cook (I use this term loosely), working outside the house, mothering, and housekeeping.
At the end of my rope one evening, I crept away to my office and scribbled this melodramatic essay.
It was a much better option than indulging in a foot stomping, door slamming tantrum.
You remember those quarterly melt-downs, don’t you?
You MUST watch this hilarious commercial from 1979. It’s fuzzy because TV sucked back then.
I forgot Women’s Lib was about doing it ALL, 24-7.
No wonder Valium was commonly prescribed.
Onto my essay.
“Cuz I’m a woman…I can bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan, and never let you forget you’re a man. Deep voice from off screen chimes in, “Tonight, I’m gonna cook for the kids.” (Notice the skeptical glance from the actress. It was 1979 after all.)
Yep, I too work at my outside job to bring home the bacon, however by the time I stumble across the threshold of my home, I’m dragging butt.
I’m certainly NOT sashaying through the door looking all sexy and energized, feeling excited to cook.
Nope. I barely have the strength to fry up that bacon, slap it on a plate with a side of Chicken Voila, a green vegetable, a little fruit cup, and a tall glass of cow’s milk.
Some days I suffer from delusional thoughts that my family will recognize my endless day of hard labor in this fashion.
“Dearest Momma, that Chicken Voila was delicious! You must be tired, why don’t you sit on the couch? I’ll pour you a glass of wine and then me and my 3 sisters will clean up the kitchen lickety-split!”
HA! I just snorted wine out of my nose.
Once the food is inhaled in 5 minutes, the dinner crowd vacates the kitchen table like Jonas Brothers’ tickets just went on sale.
Every girl in the house claims she has to study starting now for a “big exam” tomorrow.
Really? All four of you have test?
Meanwhile, my spouse slinks out mumbling something about changing a light bulb in the TV room where the baseball game happens to be on.
And, they wonder why I bang the pots and pans like it’s New Years Eve.
Tomorrow night when they try to slither away, I’m gonna pull out my referee’s whistle and blow it loud and as long as possible to induce maximum irritation.
Then, in my best militant mom’s voice, I will shout, “Freeze! Clean up begins now. All of you. Without fighting. Call me when you’re finished and I’ll inspect your work. And don’t forget to sweep under the kitchen table.”
Yes, there will be resistance but pouty helpers are better than nothing.
And this Momma knows she can not do it all.
Nor should she when there are four teenagers lounging about.
And a husband.
And a dog who is capable of licking up every last scrap and crumb under the table to do his part too.
Back to the song in the commercial.
The lyrics state that by using Enjoli perfume a woman can work, and cook, and then never let her man forget he’s a man.
Oh my, oh my!
How my stomach aches with the laughter!
You KNOW only a MAN had the salami to write that line.
I mean when does a man ever forget that he’s a man?
So… let me get this straight.
Those Mad Men like creators of the commercial are suggesting that after women work all day, then cook, then clean up, we should what?
Reapply another mist or two of their magical perfume, throw on a slinky dress then lure our man into the bedroom to seduce him less he forget he’s got man parts?
Still wiping the tears of hilarity….
The only way that man fantasy is coming true is if the perfume contains a stimulant, a mood enhancer, a relaxant, and a strong aphrodisiac because last time I felt like getting it on after a long hard day was, yeah, NEVER!
Here’s my reverse sexist commercial idea.
I got this, honey! A cologne for men featuring a ripped dude, apron tied around his bare waist, wielding a spatula in one hand and a toilet brush in the other.
Now that visual puts me in the mood.
Girls, I’m so glad that the distribution of labor is more equalized in these modern times.
I’m thrilled that you’re strong realistic women who will and do seek balance and equity in a partnership. Meaning after a thorough analysis, you’ll split the chore list right down the middle.
I bet you were relieved, dare I say ecstatic, that Dad took over the cooking shortly after I wrote this. (I knew the Chicken Voila 3 times a week mean meal plan would work. Insert evil genius laugh here.)
Buy yourself a whistle.
And find ways to LYAO as often as possible!
All My Love.