House Girlfriend

« Older Newer »
Etc House Girlfriend Ironing The Mommies Cleaning 3 months ago

Ironing On A Saturday Night, Living the Childhood Dream

It’s midnight on Saturday night and The Boyfriend is tired, understandably wanting to sleep after a long day. Unfortunately, he can’t. I’m busy ironing our bedsheets and thinking about The Mommies: at thirteen, I was in love with them. While my friends were out on dates, kissing boys, I was home on weekend nights watching these mommies, so unlike my own, wax hilarious about homemade baby foods, negligent husbands and, of course, the best way to iron a towel. I didn’t envy my friends and their budding love lives, I just wondered why no one in my house had ever taken the time to iron our bathroom linens…

It was a comment that didn’t go over too well with my working-mother. And my attempts at making towel-ironing a ritual in our household didn’t last long. 

Yet, here I am. Back where I started long ago. Ironing, on a Saturday night.

But there’s no longer anyone around to tell me to stop. The Boyfriend naps happily out on the couch- and I can go to sleep knowing that I finally found someone to kiss and the sheets we sleep on are wonderfully wrinkle free. As are our towels!

  1. housegirlfriend posted this

About the House Girlfriend

A MODERN GIRL'S (ATTEMPTED) GUIDE TO HOUSEKEEPING...

That's what I need. A guide. I used to have a job (a career even!) but more often than not, I now find myself in pajamas well past the acceptable time to be found in pajamas, pondering ice cream for breakfast and which version of Pride and Prejudice to waste my afternoon on. I've worked almost every day since I was sixteen... until now. And I don't quite know what to do with myself.

I purposely never learned to clean because I never wanted to have to. I purposely never learned to cook because the idea of winning over a man through his stomach seemed archaic and insulting. I purposely never learned to garden because I’d hate to ruin my manicure- if I ever actually got one.

But here I am. Nothing to do but pull my weight around our apartment, i.e. cook, clean, and generally keep house for The Boyfriend, who lovingly doesn't seem to mind if I never go back to work again.

And when I can get out of my pajamas at a reasonable hour, I find I don't hate it, this housekeeping thing. In fact, I might love it, being a House Girlfriend- and maybe I'll write that guide myself. If only I could get up the courage to scrub out the bathtub...