If only...
real life were as simple as TV life.
I am not particularly proud to admit that I have slid back into the habit of watching Desperate Housewives on Sunday nite. Does one need to enumerate all the more edifying activities that one could pursue? I think not. There was, however, in last evening's program, a moment of recognition when the harried mother, recently returning to full-time work, arrives home to find that the full-time homemaking dad has let things slide. I know the feeling. ( I'm working more hours for several weeks and have shifted most of the house and school responsibilities to Rick...and he appears to have read that old "So quiet down cobwebs, dust go to sleep..." poem one too many times. OK, so baby is almost twelve, but there is always a more pressing need than the nuts and bolts basics of homemaking. Without everybody else pitching in we'd be sunk...but what really has me tearing my hair out is the fact that Rick doesn't see what needs doing. Is it a male thing? I don't know.) So, anyhow, the Desperate Housewife brings home a store bought rodent to shock her husband into a tidier frame of mind. And it worked like a dream. Unfortunately, in my house, the big dog caught a mouse the other day and I didn't return to find a glistening house and a spouse spritzing bleach everywhere. Of course, the Desperate Housewife set her rodent up in business on the kitchen counter. A field mouse in the basement doesn't pack the same punch. Oh, well, time to reassess my TV habits. And give the usual hygiene/gross out/Hanta virus lecture. And don't forget kids... this is the time of year when our outside friends are looking for a warm place to spend the winter.