HIGHLY RECOMMENDED
It took me until p79 to see where this was going—the title should’ve clued me in sooner, but—without spoilers, let me just say that compared to her husband, the husbands’ behavior at the dinner party (p91) is so … stark. And therefore so telling.
The boxed online chats are so insightful. Perfectly obvious, but still.
And I’m so fucking glad I didn’t get married or have in any way a relationship with a man.
Which begs the question, to all those women, why? Why in godsname do you stay??? And why did you get pregnant (again)?
The scene culminating in the lazy traveler … perfect.
“How often do you go to the grocery store, Gary? When is the 100-Day Celebration at your kids schools, Gary? How many class parties did you volunteer to organize this year, Gary? When was the last time you waited at home for the handyman to show up or swept the crumbs from underneath the kitchen table or put away your wife’s laundry, Gary?
“Because the crazy thing is that Gary thinks the two of them have the same job and that he’s just better at it. In reality, Nora does do the same job, but manages it in two-thirds the time while maintaining an entire other career as a wife and a mom …” p203
Lots of these throughout. All excellent. All necessary.
“Can you ride in the cart, Liv?” she asks.
“No, I want to help push, Mommy.”
“Please?”
“No, ma’am. I’m going to push.” p204
Seriously? If my mother told me to do something (told me, note; not asked me), I did it. END OF STORY. No wonder she’s exhausted. She’s handed the reins to a four-year-old.
“Before they even reach the produce section, Liv needs a snack because hungry is apparently how God made her today (this, according to Liv), and so they set off to find something suitable, finally agreeing to open a carton of Goldfish.” p204
Ohmyfuckinggod. The kid’s hungry? She wants a snack now? “No. Wait until we get home.” END OF STORY. The kid won’t die.
And Goldfish is what they agreed on? I ate what my mother put in front of me. END OF STORY.
Yes, her husband is an asshole, but she’s brought a lot of this on herself.
“I packed three lunches, brushed three heads of hair, made sure everyone went potty, did the dishes, put dinner in the Crock-Pot, put laundry away, and cut toast into quarters, and he thought … I should have been nicer?” p335
Even so, TO THE MEN: Read this book. I dare you. Then I ask you, what does it say that so many women are applauding this book? It says that so many are asking, begging , their husbands to accept neither that household maintenance nor childcare is primarily the woman’s responsibility (and you are being generous for helping out). It says that we think it’ll take a lobotomy of sorts for you to get that. Prove me wrong.
And to those who whine ‘What do you want me to do? Tell me what to do!’ Oh for fuck’s sake.
Buy the food. Cook. And clean up after. Dust and vacuum and wipe and disinfect. Buy clothing as needed. Wash and dry said clothing. Schedule appointments. Pay attention to a baby, a child. Don’t pretend you can’t figure this shit out on your own. No doubt many women are sobbing with joy at chapters 29, 30, and 31.
