I Am Woman; Hear Me Snore

I am terrible at playing housewife. For one, I never cook. I also find cleaning house tiresome after working a 40 hour week.

I mean, God, people. How am I supposed to find time to Google pictures of hot, obscure rock stars (hellooooo, Win Butler) and watch blurry Youtube clips of South Park (despite having every single South Park episode in high definition) if I spend my free time cooking and cleaning?

It's called priorities, you know?

I consider myself an "eleventh-wave" feminist. Basically, I cherry-pick my feminist sensibilities based on whatever conveniences me.

You see, I can wear make-up and put dresses on the dog and yell for Ian to kill the slug in the bathtub, because as an eleventh-wave feminist, I embrace my femininity.

I am female, dammit! I don't burn bras; I love bras! I celebrate gender differences! I am soft and emotional! I am womanly! I do womanly things!

But the minute talk of cooking comes up? Like, cooking actual meals? OH, HELL NO. I AM A FEMINIST, AND I DON'T DO THAT SHIT.

Ian: "I always cook. You haven't cooked a single meal since I've been with you."

Laura: "You are correct."

Ian: "You don't even try to deny it!"

Laura: "Why would I try to deny it? I don't cook."

Ian: "What if we have kids? Would you feed them macaroni and cheese every night for dinner?"

Laura: "And chicken nuggets from the microwave."

Ian: "!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Laura: "Shut up; it's protein."

Ian: "I think I'm going to have issues with this."

Laura: "I'd nuke a can of corn, too. We can tell the kids corn's a vegetable, even though it's a grain."

Ian: "I'm not sure that's going to work."

Laura: "Hey, I can make milk. Have you seen how awesome these things are?"

Ian: "No complaints here."

Laura: "I'll breastfeed until the kid's 5 or 6. Then he can go on the reduced lunch program at school. And the reduced breakfast program. They make breakfast, too."

Ian: "............ I think I'm going to have issues with this."

Laura: "I bet I can make enough milk for you, too."

Ian: "Wouldn't breast milk taste bad?"

Laura: "No. I've read it tastes sweet. You'd love it."

Ian: "It's too bad you can't blog about this."

Laura: "Or can I?"