In  the post, I’m Freakin June Cleaver Gosh Darn’it, I realized that when you translate anything you say into the 50s speak, it makes you seem really wholesome and attentive and frankly, perfect. You know, the way British accents make you sound smart?

That said, I shall tell you about my day, 50’s style (don’t worry, I’ll translate it back), so that you can see what a little “era tweaking” can do for your reputation as a mother and a wife. (We could all use a trick or two every once in a while, no?)

50s: My darling hubby gave me a sweet peck on the cheek before leaving for work. I handed him his lunchbox with the matching thermos and he tugged on my apron string popping the back open (such a kidder, that one).

Translation: My husband grunted something about “goodbye” as he walked out (not sure, I was still half asleep) he may have slapped me on the ass, don’t really know, too groggy to recall.

 

50s: My kids and I started the day with a nutritious breakfast. It is the most important meal, which is why all four food groups were represented.

Translation: I made coffee for breakfast. As for my kids, they were in the middle of trying to convince me to let them skip breakfast, when I noticed we had left over pizza in the fridge. They ate it cold. I think there’s a food pyramid now, right?

 

50s: My little prince spent the day in his tree house playing Spit and marbles with the local boys, while my sweet princess roamed the neighborhood freely with her girlfriends. They played hopscotch, jumped rope and hula-hooped. It was peachy keen. Then they tipped the milkman a nickel to give them a refreshing bottle of milk when they were pooped.

Translation: I dropped my kids at the bus stop for camp. I was shoeless and braless, but I had my coffee, phew. My kids had their phones so they could be contacted at anytime. I threw them $5 bucks a piece to buy something from the vending machines. I’m assuming it will be soda and candy, but I didn’t ask that way I won’t have to know.

 

50s: Later that evening, my dearest hubby took Rover for a long walk around the neighborhood with his pooper scooper at the ready.

Translation: I let Tanner out back to poop in my yard and didn’t pick it up … hopefully my hubby will get around to it this weekend.

 

50s: I played Barbies with my daughter. That Barbie and her beau, Ken are so virtuous. They rode about in her spiffy Austin-Healey convertible, it was a gas.

Translation: I played Bratz Dolls with my daughter. They’re like hookers. I’m pretty sure Yasmin has acquired an STD from her Party Boyz beau, Cade. I wanted to suggest we pretend to take her to a free clinic, but I refrained.

 

50s:  I whipped up a nutritious dinner for the whole family.

Translation: We had subs delivered. Which is weird because I’d spent $200 at the grocery store earlier and still had no meals to actually cook?!?

 

50s: I gave my sweet angels their baths and got them ready for bed.

Translation: I let the kids go for a quick dip in the pool to get them by until tomorrow.

 

50s: I got my hubby his slippers and cigar and then gently rubbed his shoulders while he viewed his favorite Western, Gun Smoke. Golly, that show gets him all knotted up.

Translation: I Allowed my hubby to make idle chit chat during the commercials of my favorite Reality Show, The Bachelorette. (This may be the most exciting Rose Ceremony EVER!)

 

50s:  Before bed, I washed, ironed, and starched the family’s laundry.

Translation: I put in a load of laundry in hopes that the cleaning lady would dry and fold it when she comes (two days from now).

 

50s: I added a dash of bleach to my wonderful man’s shirts. He likes me to get my whites their whitest. It was worth the effort to please him …  it always is.

Translation: I threw the lights in with the darks, set it on cold, and crossed my fingers.

 

50s: My husband was interested in sexual intercourse, so I naturally obliged.

Translation: My husband gave me that weird nod and wink he gives when he’s in the mood, and I pretended not to see it. Then when he nudged me, I snored a little… it worked.

See, I told you … 50s-wise I’m a true domestic goddess, we all are.

50s:

 Translation:

Try it… translate anything you did today. I bet it’ll sound better.