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An Ode to Housewives
I know someone who calls herself “just” a housewife, and seems ashamed when she says it. This makes me very sad on a lot of levels. First of all, I hate it when anyone calls themselves “just” anything. As far as I’m concerned every human being starts from a baseline of complexity. We are all…
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My Mother’s Torrid Affair
It was the 1960’s and every respectable housewife had her eye on the pretty neighborhood divorcée. Scandalous. Not to be trusted. And with three kids, too! The father’s nowhere in sight. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Wonder what she did to drive him away? And then every day at around noon a milk truck would arrive, park…