I am not alone. Yes my dears, there are more accidental housewives than I give credit. Take today, there were at least 50 ladies, between the ages of 22 and 60, at Central Market and Tom Thumb. But there was also one man - poor sweetheart. He didn't know how the meat counter number system worked. There he was with his precious toddler in a jogging stroller, waiting for his cut of sirloin. But it was I who pulled the first ticket. "71" they called. And I came forward - I gestured toward the sweet man with the jogging stroller, "He was here first," I say ... the guy at the meat counter says, "That's not how it works, to bad for him ..." and I get my chicken breast first.
His "fish-out-of-water" look gave him away as an AH (my new abbreviation for accidental housewife). In this tough economic climate we are all called to just do our best and play the hand we're dealt. My hope is that he at least learns the meat counter protocol and either gets back in the game where meat counter protocol doesn't matter or he settles in to what can be a wonderful life with his darling son. I personally will take this time to enjoy the small things. I love that I could take Scout for a longer walk today. I love that I wasn't running out the door at 7 AM and instead could scratch Harper behind the ears for a few lazy moments in bed. Whatever your deck looks like, embrace the challenge and find the joy. And when that is too hard and the world seems too unbearable, take a moment and pray or meditate- then breathe. This too shall pass.
Stay Chic,
HSG
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