He who is being carried does not realize how far the town is. (Nigerian proverb)
Dependency is soft and cushy and makes it unnecessary for me to know how far the town is. (For Today, page 209)
Little girls should be seen, not heard.
Women, obey your husbands.
A woman’s place is in the house.
Born to serve.
Live to please.
Wife for life.
Who needs to have an opinion
Who needs to have an opinion
when you’ve got your man?
Slippers, cold beer, newspaper.
Slippers, cold beer, newspaper.
Which would you like me
to fetch you first, dear?
Woman in her greatest perfection
was made to serve and obey man.
She respects him, obeys his commands,
has no wishes of her own,
no ill-feeling, no resentment,
and always tries to make him happy.
For she must be in subjection to man
(of whom she has taken her origin),
as well in habit as in service.
Choose a profession – teaching or nursing –
so you can move
where your husband’s job requires.
Sure, rules have changed. Sort of.
But I got the old edition,
the ’50s Donna-Reed-perfect-wife variety.
I can’t say it was cushy, living that way.
But the art of decision-making
certainly atrophied.
I am responsible for me.
For accepting my despicable actions,
disdaining attitudes. For admitting
the true nature of my acts. For releasing
character defects. For righting wrongs.
For the next right step.
God help me!
God, help me?