30 June 2010


I hope you'll forgive me if the next few posts are a little fractured.  We're still getting things unpacked around here.  One of the things we've brought home with us is this crazy notion that we're--um--married.  We've been saying the words "husband" and "wife" like it's a funny little joke between the two of us.  Because it kind of is, I guess.

I know married couples that prefer not to use those words to refer to one another.  They choose to call each other "partner," an idea that I'm not opposed to, by any means.  Unlike some people, though, I think there are ways to use the word "wife," for instance, without embracing the history of subordination or sexism that "wife" might have once implied.

In a way, my position on this isn't unlike my reasoning for taking my man's last name.  It's easy for the world to understand what I mean when I call my partner-in-crime my "husband."  And he can call me "wife" all he wants.  First of all, I think it's hilarious right now. And it reminds me of the giant commitment we just made to one another.

And it makes me feel a little rebellious, because, in the end, I have all intentions of making "wife" mean whatever I want it to...

While I decide just exactly what that is, I reserve the right to play with all of the old stereotypes.  One of my favorites to riff on--the 1950's housewife--will be a little easier to evoke with the help of a gift I received the morning after our wedding.

My dear Aunt Kathy made this beautiful little apron for me. It has rick-rack--I love rick-rack!--and sweet little pockets for recipe cards and handkerchiefs.

I don't know who made the fabric, but I love that, too.  All in all, it's such a pretty thing that I'm a little apprehensive about wearing it in the kitchen, for fear of getting it dirty.  I'll work up the nerve, though, because I can't let such a great apron go to waste.

And with that, I'm off to the kitchen to make dinner for my man so it's piping hot when he gets home from work tonight.  The best part?  Sooner or later, it will be his turn to make dinner.  And that is what being a wife in my house is all about...


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