me and Donna Reed
baking, swearing and laundry
two peas in a pod
Today I am being a housewife. This, I think, will get the kids back on the road to recovery. I am baking banana bread, folding clothes, and planning to make a very scaled down vinegar and baking soda volcano for the pleasure of the wee one. I am wearing a necklace.
This day is so shocking to everyone, you would think that instead of organizing the pantry and wearing a clean shirt, I set my hair on fire and then grew seventeen-inch rainbow-colored horns.
Whatever. As long as they are shocked into getting better, it’s all good. If I have to, I’ll dig up some old black pumps and prance around with the vacuum cleaner. I’m going to scare the germs right out of those rascals. Why not?
I would also like to say that so far, things might actually be looking up. No one has a fever, the wee-er one ate lunch for the first time in a week, and I have yet to throw anything or scream an obscenity out of frustration and/or exhaustion.
Is it the Donna Reed impression that’s doing it, or the introduction of penicillin into the fray?
Maybe it’s a heady cocktail of pearls and pills. That sounds like the name of a new blog, doesn’t it?