Where can I get a Wife? Seriously. (Redux)

After a day like I had yesterday, I thought I would re-run an article that I originally posted February 19, 2014.  Trust me, it’s just as relevant today as it was then.


Like everyone else out there, my life is filled with plenty of stress. I never seem to have the time to work through everything on my plate. With a family and work and my own life all vying for attention I routinely find it difficult not just in getting ahead but staying in place. Sound familiar? Well, lucky me, I’ve finally figured out the key to how I can finally juggle all these challenges. I offer this suggestion up to you as well – take heed as it may be the perfect solution to all of your woes as well.

I need a wife. I really, really need a wife.

Imagine how great it would be to have a wife helping out. Oh my god, wives are the best! Instead of just being one I’m giddy about how much easier my life would be if I had one. In the morning I would be able to wake up and actually enjoy a cup of coffee. Perhaps even while sitting down (the thought alone makes me a little woozy). My current way of drinking coffee is a bit convoluted.  You see, first I wake the kids up and get them ready for school (anyone with kids will know how that endeavor usually works), then I make the bed, take the dog out, start a load of laundry, clean cat litter, drive the kids to school, run errands, and then upon my return home, I finally have coffee as I sit down to start my work day. So the idea of simply waking up, stumbling to the kitchen and having a cup of coffee while sitting and enjoying the nothing that would be the start of my day could very well be Nirvana.

vintage housewife

In the evenings, with Wife streamlining activities, I’d be able to sit down and eat dinner. NOT a dinner I slaved over, mind you, which has cooled on my plate by the time I’m able to sit down. Oh no.  Instead I’d be able to waltz into the dining room right as it’s being plated up, able to savor the aromas, and have that sense of wonderful surprise when I find out what’s been prepared. “Veggie casserole? My favorite! Wife…you’re amazing.”  Of course I’d also have the privilege of turning my nose up at the meal if I happen to not be in the mood for it. “Eggplant parmesan? Meh, not really feeling it today. We had to have this?” I could also nitpick and complain about a missing spice or how the noodles aren’t truly al dente. Oh yes, this would be nice.

Another fantasy of mine that Wife could make a reality is the hot shower. I could take a hot shower.  As in, jump right in when the water’s hot and take a shower. I’m grinning ear to ear like a fool right now just pondering the joy inherent in such an event. There’d be no sorting of the laundry left lying on the bathroom floor. Or picking up stray towels. Or wiping down the sink (I mean, really, does no one else see that!?).  Just a beeline right to a piping hot shower with a towel that someone else had washed and stacked neatly for my use.  I could get used to this!

vintage housewife 2

To end the night I’d be able to collapse directly into bed. I would announce to all and sundry “I’m going to bed,” and simply go to bed. I wouldn’t have to do the nightly inspection of every room to clean up errant cups and re-organize scattered papers. I wouldn’t have to check to make sure the kids have done their homework (homework? what’s homework?). The pets would already be fed and the litter—which seems to always require attention—would be taken care of. I wouldn’t have to stress over what tomorrow’s dinner will be or make a mental grocery list or get anxious about whether or not I’m going to remember the kid’s doctor appointment or try to figure out the best time to drop off the overdue library books or remind myself for the 3rd time to call the insurance company to question that charge in the morning or spend the last minutes of my full day figuring out how to rob Peter to pay Paul to get the bills paid. No.  None of that.  I would just drift off into a dreamless sleep and actually rest, mind unfettered with the myriad of mundane details in running a household.

vintage housewife3

And best of all.  Best. Of. All.  Wife would nurse me back to health when I’m sick. How great would that be?  No doing chores with a head cold and fever. Instead I’d have soup brought to me (without my having to explain where the soup is or how to make it).  Tissues would be placed at my bedside with the old nasty ones being carted off and thrown away.  I could stay in bed wrapped in the covers recovering from whatever illness has taken hold drinking tea that Wife would have made for me (much like with the soup, Wife would already know the location of the tea and what to do with it to turn into a delicious thirst quencher). And it’s not like the chores would just be left, undone, waiting for my return to health.  Wife would have taken care of everything.  I have goose-bumps just thinking of it!

These Wives are pretty nifty inventions.  I’m not sure why I didn’t think of this before.  But I think we all need to jump on the Wife bandwagon and snag one as quickly as we can.


Seriously, Who Doesn’t Want Minions??

Have you ever seen the Despicable Me movies? If you haven’t they’re pretty much about a curmudgeonly villain (voiced by Steve Carrell) whose ice cold heart is slowly melted by the presence of kids that are put in his care. None of that is terribly important. Cartoon movies always have some sort of moral like that in them. They have to, because let’s face it; media is how we shape our youth when we don’t have the energy to do it ourselves.

Anyway, the great part of these Despicable movies is that the villain, Gru, has a huge lab where he plans all of his world dominating high jinx and to help him out are these tiny overall-wearing helpers called “minions.”  They look like oversized pain pills with arms and legs and they’re dumb as rocks.  Even so, they’re just as cute as can be.  Listening to them speak or sing never fails to make me smile.  And more importantly, they help with all the crap that Gru simply doesn’t have time to bother with.

How awesome would it be to have our own personal minions!? Just a little team of followers that carries your purse when it’s heavy or runs to the grocery store for a bag of flour or deposits those check you can’t get around to.  They’d also be your biggest fans (much like in the movie).  And who can’t use fans?? They’d give you a standing ovation every time you come home from work feeling haggard and underappreciated. They’d tell you you’re a genius when everyone else thinks your ideas stink. Minion #1 would hand you a steaming mug of hot chocolate right after Minion #2 has helped ease you onto the couch for your nightly foot massage by Minion #3.

Yes, of course that would be great. Who wouldn’t want their own personal assistants that make the load a little bit lighter? And hell, let’s not candy coat the reality…it’d be the greatest excuse to be downright lazy.

I like thinking of the next level, though. If I had a staff of minions I’d want them armed and dangerous. Not real-life dangerous; cartoon level dangerous. I’d love it if they came equipped with freeze rays and didn’t hesitate to whip it out when there’s an annoying driver in front of me.

After all, minions come decked out with all sorts of nifty gadgets like that – and they could use them to dispense swift justice to anyone I deem as a hazard to my laziness and impatience.  Lassos, extending boxing gloves a la the Acme Company, mini-catapults…those are just a few ideas for their utility belt.  Hmmm, now that I think about it, all that power might be a bit too tempting to keep in check.  I suppose I should worry about the possible corruption of my soul. Right, who am I kidding….just where the heck can I find me some of these minions!?