I don’t watch a lot of television.
I spent a lot of years trying to keep my kids from becoming TV junkies and it just sort of fell out of favor. Of course, my children want nothing to do with such an archaic device when the iPad travels so nicely from room to room. They can watch what they want, when they want and are not beholden to any particular time or space. But the old habit of keeping the television unplugged stayed with me, and for years we didn’t even have cable.
This has kept me out of a lot of pop culture. I still remember a couple of years ago when I reached out to my Facebook friends and asked, “What is a Honey Boo Boo?” I’m still not sure I completely understand, but I heard enough to know I was decidedly not missing anything.
Then there was some kind of horror on the Jersey Shore (I know, as New Yorkers, we think pretty much anything on the Jersey Shore is horrifying) that morphed into an equally terrifying show when they all became housewives. Or something like that.
That seemed to launch a whole series about housewives. As a housewife myself, I never really understood the appeal. Why would anyone want to follow me around in my yoga pants while I wipe down the side of the toilet bowl with a napkin I just wrestled from the dog’s jaws? And my food shopping trips certainly don’t leave you on the edge of your seat with breathless anticipation, “Oh My GOD! She got the generic mustard! Did you see that? She walked right past the organic! She must be cheating on her husband.”
However, the worst prime time idea I have ever heard was probably the wife swap. Which freaking genius came up with that gem? Let’s take the hippie, vegan lady who weaves her own clothes and give her the hockey family with the monster SUV and a weekly meat delivery. Then let’s all act shocked and appalled when hockey mom develops an acute case of anemia and flower power has a breakdown so severe, she ends up sage smudging the entire neighborhood.
At some point, there was a show that came along and actually piqued my interest; not enough to watch it, but enough to ponder the subject matter. It was a show about polygamists, and aside from wondering how quickly they would be arrested, I considered the wisdom in having multiple wives.
Not like they did on the show, all authoritarian and patriarchal – that’s a concept I cannot wrap my brain around. Then again, I rarely accept guidance from folks who have magic underwear, so they didn’t start out on my “super logical” category anyway.
But have you ever really considered the idea of multiple wives? Because it is pure genius.
I speak from some experience. Though I never had a wife, I got to keep my best friend, living in my house, for the first three years of my marriage, so it was kinda the same thing.
When my husband said something asinine, I had a witness to his wrongness. When I had to learn how to cook, I had someone that would sample my terrifying creations before I unleashed them on the world. And when she needed to spit it back out, she did it with love and understanding. Unlike my husband, whose motives I constantly suspected were nefarious and who said crazy things like, “I don’t like it.”
When my first child was born, there were an extra pair of hands that were not only proficient at changing diapers, but were quick to fold baby clothes that had been sitting in the dryer so long I completely forgot they existed and just assumed my Jack Russell terrier had taken them to his crate to complete his voodoo doll.
But, most good things must come to an end and one day, she decided she wanted her own husband and family. Some may say it was selfish of me to not be happy for her, but I was a postpartum mom who hadn’t slept for more than three hours in a row in over six months. It took me about 11 days to even realize she had left.
Now I’ve spent the last 14 years thinking about how great I had it. And wondering what kind of response my husband would have if he came home one day and there was another Mrs. in the house. Get your mind out of the gutter. This is a family publication. And she wouldn’t be here for him anyway. She’d be mine.
The thought is fleeting, though. Because really, what type of lunatic would want to come to my house and help me take care of these inmates? The alarm goes off at 4 a.m. every day. I scoop up dog poop, make dinner (not in that order), quell adolescent uprisings and get completely disregarded by people who sprouted out of my own damn body, only to have these same creatures beg me for cash. She’d have to be even crazier than me. I can’t handle that level of psychosis.
Thank God, and all of his disciples, for wine. I’m sure it was invented as an apology to their mothers. And I hope one of them brought her chocolate, too. I found a recipe for homemade chocolate on allrecipes.com that I will be casually handing over to my kids.
Homemade Melt-In-Your-Mouth Dark Chocolate
Ingredients
1/2 cup coconut oil
1/2 cup cocoa powder
3 tablespoons honey
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
Directions
Gently melt coconut oil in a saucepan over medium-low heat. Stir cocoa powder, honey, and vanilla extract into melted oil until well blended. Pour mixture into a candy mold or pliable tray. Refrigerate until chilled, about 1 hour. And when your kids ask for some, remind them about the $20 they owe you. They will disappear right quick.
Laurie Nigro, a mother of two, is passionate about her family, her community, and natural living. Laurie resides in downtown Riverhead and is co-founder of the River and Roots Community Garden on West Main Street.
Write to Laurie:
[contact-form-7 id=”27986″ title=”Write to Laurie”]
