I am just about done reading The Help. Excellent book. It makes me crave good fried chicken and green beans with bacon. Most of all, I find myself daydreaming about having maids like the women in the book. (Well, a maid without the racism and poor treatment.) I think having a maid would be absolutely awesome, don't you?
My sister recently asked me what I would do if Erik died. I gave her some dumb answer about going to law school, but the real answer is that I would probably use the life insurance money to hire a maid. That is because Erik scoffs at the thought of hiring help. He thinks it's a ridiculous idea that we would ever be above scrubbing our own toilets. I think it's ridiculous that he won't consider it. (We both think it's ridiculous that we even have this conversation because it's highly unlikely we'll ever be in a financial position to hire a maid anyway.) Yet, one can still day dream, right?
In the dream world my husband won't let ever happen, my maid would be really cool. She'd teach me how to cook, take care of my kids so I could run off to lunch with my friends at the last minute, wear a uniform like Alice (from the Brady Bunch) and work about 50 hours a week, but not live with us. She'd specialize in changing dirty diapers, potty training, cooking amazing meals, cleaning bathrooms, yard work, and not talking back. She would also accept no more than $2 an hour in fear of exploiting our kindness. Yet, she would be so very happy working for us.
The funniest part about our maid conversations, besides being pointless, is that Erik always insinuates that if I had a maid, I would be lazy. Not true. I really believe that having a maid would allow me to be a happier, more well-rounded, person... the kind of person who doesn't smell like kid poop all day long.
(If you ever know someone who wants to work for free and not steal our stuff, let me know.)
2 hours ago