26 May 2010

Taking Advice On Boys and Babes

Hello, again!

I'll get right to it as I have to get rolling on my day - much to do! Yesterday was a mini triumph in cleaning. I cruised through my daily chores pretty effortlessly. Even the oven, which made me its bitch last week in every manner possible, was barely a blip in my day. I stayed cool, I stayed collected, I stayed clothed.

In fact, I even did something I said I didn't need to do: I cleaned the inside of my off-limits microwave. It was my 50s housewife skeleton in the closet, er, rather, kitchen. I knew what lurked behind its door - an explosion of tomato sauce on all four walls and its 'ceiling' - something that I had somehow been able to ignore forever. Now the microwave is clean and will hopefully start displaying the time instead of scrolling "CLEAN ME ... OR KILL ME" on its LED screen.

Today for dinner, I opted to look in a section of my Bride's Reference Book called "Men Like This Food." I'm guessing the headline editor of the publication was through with coming up with cutesy titles like "Bediquette: From Nighties to Nighty-Night" and was just like, "Ugh, let's just call it what it is, already. This Tom Collins is wearing off."

The intro to "Men Like This Food" explains that we should hope to be married to normal men with "masculine" tastes (so they prefer blue food to pink food? Dog meat to cat meat?):
With this advice in mind, I made Patrick broiled steak, french fried potatoes, corn on the cob and a broiled tomato - served with his favourite beer. Dessert was a banana split with strawberries.
Well, that meal was boring. That wasn't kooky and 50s-sounding at all.

That's true, judgey voice in my head, but there's a reason for that. You want to know what men like?

They like it when you don't eff with their food.

They like it when they don't have to wade through a monstrosity of olives, gelatin, sauce and green-tinted coconut in a supposed chicken dish. They like it when they don't have to ask what's for dinner when it's sitting in front of them on a plate. They like it when they don't feel sexually confused while eating party food.

They just want to eat something hot and identifiable and for the first time since we started the 50s Housewife Experiment, I was pleased to serve it.

I don't think Patrick will be so lucky for the rest of the project, though. I'm pretty sure it will be a parade of freak show dishes from here on out - after all, there are just four more full days of 50s housewifery to go!

After dinner, I went up to Siobhan and Patrick's to babysit Charlotte while they ran errands. People probably think the Dells are our only friends as they're the only people I've mentioned this entire time. I assure you, we have other pals - but in a way - the Dells are the Ethel and Fred to our Lucy and Ricky. Or vice versa. Or, well, who knows - I'm pretty sure, though, that, based on the observations of the people in my neighbourhood, I'm the Ricky Ricardo.

Anyway, being child-free, I didn't have to spend any time researching what the 50s housewife would do with a papoose in tow. So what a perfect opportunity it was to start digging into that mid-century wisdom and experiment with it on someone else's unsuspecting child share it with all of you:

It's compact. It's convenient. It's collapsible. It's My First Death Trap.

Would you like your child to grow up big and strong (or at least able to read books about being big and strong)? There's a product that will help:
Corn syrup! Get them started on it right after they're done with the bottle. It provides them with that pure energy a butchy child needs. Plus, it gives them that adorable crazy-eye / clenched jaw look of a rave-obsessed drug user. Seeing this baby peek over the crib bars would never creep anyone out.

They're not babies anymore, but sometimes they still wet the bed like one:
Want to reduce your child's shame right away? Stop referring to that thing you just put Ronald Reagan Jr. in as a panty.

And finally ...

You know, if the whole family has "constipation worries", you might want to review what you're stuffing them with. Maybe all that gelatin, marshmallow fluff and chicken livers are gunking up the track. And, mom? Stop creeping on train time. Maybe you and your giant head should truck back to the old grocery store and pick up some not-from-a-can fruit.

Alright - enough snark! I must dash. Big day ahead of me!

Image Source: Bride's Reference Book


Unknown 9:34 am, May 27, 2010  

Wild! It's kind of interesting to think that the advertisements you scanned were probably written by the Alphabettys of yesteryear and they probably thought they were being clever and original. I'm going to miss these posts when the experiment comes to an end.

Susan 1:41 pm, May 27, 2010  

Thank you so much for sharing this experiment! You are one brave woman. What on earth will you write about when it is over?

Greg The UnBunny,  1:34 am, May 28, 2010  

This blog is unbelievably funny. Thanks for the literal LOLs.

Jen 9:04 am, May 28, 2010  

Hello and thanks again, commenters!

Joe: Indeed they were. I'm sure there are even worse modern-day examples (I'm thinking about what we label / market was healthy in food and such!). I think I'll miss this experiment too! I'm sure I'll have reasons to bring her back now and again for limited "very special edition of the 50s Housewife" though!

Susan: You're welcome! After this, I hope to evaluate it all and come up with another experiment / lifestyle (eee?) - but of the modern working housewife.

Greg: Thank you! I am a total laugh whore, so knowing someone out there is snickering to this makes me very happy!

Anonymous,  8:32 pm, May 08, 2011  

I have come across your blog, and im enjoying every minute.. Thks again for a chuckle.

Stefani 1:22 pm, June 18, 2011  

I have tears from laughing at this post. You are brilliant!

Katryn,  6:50 pm, September 24, 2011  

"Men Like This Food" -- too funny!

My friend has a 50's cookbook that has sections for Party Food, Food Men Like, Food Children Like, and -- for the ladies -- Diet Food. Ugh.

SkippyMom 12:39 am, September 20, 2014  

I am trying not to comment too much because these posts are 4 years old, but the Karo Syrup? I can't resist.

My mother bottle fed us a mix of Karo Syrup, Pet Milk and water until we were weaned to whole milk. [My sibs and I were born in the 60s].

I nursed my children but there came a point where our one daughter was done with the whole "Mommy's titty" thing [to be honest, she bit] but not old enough for cow's milk. I turned to that concoction that my mother gave me - and today I have a college graduate. heehee

Our pediatrician [in 1997] didn't argue one bit with me - he said "Great, just add some vitamins". Done.

She thrived is healthy and beautiful. [child has skin and hair I dream about]

People nowadays that I tell that story to? Look at me like I have three heads. We were darn near broke[we had just bought our first home and her brother was in diapers, I was SAH] when she was born and she did fine on that which we could afford.

I wish I could find an original of that Karo ad to give her.

On a side note. Don't screw up the mix measurements - it isn't pretty in the diaper area. :)

Sorry if that is too much, but you are so lovely and I am laughing so much through this. I am sorry it will end in a few more posts.

Anonymous,  1:32 am, September 21, 2014  

Girl, you SLAY me!!!! LOL LOL LOL

juli,  4:00 pm, April 02, 2015  

Wild! It's kind of interesting to think that the advertisements you scanned were probably written by the Alphabettys of yesteryear and they probably thought they were being clever and original. I'm going to miss these posts when the experiment comes to an end.
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RailRecipe 7:16 am, March 15, 2021  

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Need words? I'm a Toronto-based freelance writer who injects great ones into blogs, websites, magazines, ads and more. So many services, one lovely Jen (with one 'n').

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