I’m going to level with you, I’m glad I’m not a woman. Because I couldn’t survive today’s society. I don’t know how modern girls do it.
There was a time when the only things required of women were knowing how to fry bacon and popping sass-mouthed toddlers.
Nowadays, to be a card-carrying female, you’d better be able to do more than Granny. To start with, you must have washboard abs, a blossoming career, a husband from the pages of Men’s Fitness Magazine, children dressed in seersucker, and at least one expensive handbag.
And if that doesn’t give you a nervous breakdown, the modern woman’s household must be breathtaking. Her wardrobe: cute, but sassy. Her daughter must play piano. Her boy must compete in baseball, football, basketball, soccer, track, lacrosse, polo, skeet shooting, and speak fluent Spanish.
Had enough? I’m only getting started. Society also requires women to be gourmet cooks, preparing everything from Sloppy Joes, to blanquette de veau. And let’s talk size. Today’s woman is instructed to maintain the lithe weight of a malnourished North Korean underwear model — with washboard abs.
Are your palms are getting sweaty? Mine are.
You know what I wish? I wish we allowed women to be themselves, for Christ’s sake, Grecian curves and all. I wish ladies swimwear wasn’t made of dental floss, that nineteen-year-olds weren’t dictating fashion. I wish women of all shapes loved their bodies.
I wish we taught confidence to young girls, and taught young boys to help them find it.
I wish women took more spa vacations, and less sick days. I wish ladies considered gray hair and wrinkles as trophies, not things to cover up. I wish waist sizes weren’t measured in numbers, that thick was the new thin. I wish women were proud to be round, firm, meat-eating knockouts, with real smiles, instead of whatever society says they should be.
And one last thing.
To hell with washboard abs.