See this?
This is the bookshelf in my room--it is not to be confused with the bookshelves in my living room, and never with the bookshelf in my kitchen, which is exclusively for crafting books. The bookshelf in the picture is special because it is full to the brim with what I callHausfrau Porn.
Hausfrau Porn is my pet expression referring to romance novels—not chic lit, per se, because chic lit is often not romantic; there are few things as un-romantic as a woman completely fouling up her life and blaming it on others, and occassionally chic lit devolves into this sad genre so we're going to leave that alone. So not chic-lit, but romance—and I’m talking all fields of it, from sweet Harlequin Romances to spicy Vampire Lit to action/adventure romance to what is commonly called Romantica. Your flavor of choice is up to you--and it all has it's place. In fact, one of my absolute favorite moments of romance has nothing to do at all with romance--it's the one moment, on two pages, when two people who have had each other's backs for four books, actually take off their armor for something OTHER than to check wounds. But still, it makes my heart beat faster and my mind stop what it was doing and my body to go "whoa...there are other functions here than running around in circles." You know...ROMANCE--engaging, emotionally resonant characters and hot sex, either implied or graphically described—THE GOOD STUFF!
Unfortunately, for all the good that this literature does, Hausfrau Porn gets maligned by the people who should appreciate it the most—men. Why should men appreciate this much abused genre, you ask? Because they benefit from it in ways they will never know. This is not their fault--it is the fault of their faulty internal monologues, but that's just genetic hardwiring. If you ask a man, he will tell you that he is cursed with a rather shallow internal monologue--the stuff that runs through a woman's head is as alien to a man as Plutonion Blood Leeches, and a man, even the most sensitive, balanced man, would take one look at the hyper-frenetic nest of metallic nettles that is a woman's mind at rest, run around in circles, get dizzy, and fall down in a dead faint. The fact is, women are cursed with an internal monologue so deep it borders on black-hole-esque implosion. Men know this--they're often the victim of the meltdown, even if they don't know what set the reactor off. Are we ready for an example? (Say yes say yes say yes...I’m just dying to give you an example...please?)
All right then--let’s take a look at the internal life of a man (my husband has verified the truth of this; I’m not slandering an entire gender here) and a woman—at this point a woman who stays at home during the summer because she teaches school--shall we?
Morning
Man: Get up, take a shower, shave, sex, get dressed, sex, say hi to the kids, kiss the spouse goodbye, sex, drive to work, sex, sex, sex, get to work, sex, log in to the computer, sex, sex, sex, sex, sports, sex, talk to co-workers about sports, get to work, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex.
Lunch.
Woman: Get up, do laundry should I do laundry now while he’s in the shower but I’ll need the shower when he gets out so maybe I can slip in a load when he’s closing down the works? Will I get the shower done before the baby wakes up because she’s going to want to eat, and the cave troll is going to want to snuggle and maybe I can take a shower between these two events and do the big kids have stuff they can make themselves for breakfast or do I need to go to the grocery store, and does the cave troll have stuff he can eat for breakfast or do I need to give him a cookie and beg forgiveness and if I drink a soda this morning to wake myself up how long does it hit the baby’s system? Shower. Get dressed o gees does the entire household have to talk to me as I get dressed or can I root through the pile of clean clothes without scarring my adolescent children for life and for criminy’s sake has anyone let out the dog? Oh yeah. I did. When I was doing the laundry. “Get out of my room I’m tired of being naked in front of you people!” Do I need to water the lawn? Gees, did I forget to do the dishes? Do I have time to go to the gym? Oh look, Judging Amy’s on—I haven’t seen this one…and is it just me, or is Bruce REALLY hot…yeah, he’s hot…but the baby needs to eat and I need to clean the kitchen and I need to water the lawn and I need to call the dentist oh crap and when do I make that orthodontist appointment anyway and why did the baby just barf over the floor and does my daughter have an attitude or have we just been closed up in the house to long oh for crap’s sake the house will never be clean let’s just get out of here before I lose my ever loving mind. “Kids, we’re going to the gym. Now.” Exercise, Grace and Arturo should they dance what’s she wearing did I remember to call the orthodontist, no no no this is me time, I need to write, he’s really hot, remember to mention his capped teeth and her sculpted curls and she is a vampire, something nice about that and did we water the dog?
Lunch.
Man: Food coma, sex, work a little, sex, work some more, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, commute home, sports, sex, sex, sex, the mortgage and the phone bill? Sex sex sex sex sex sex I paid them right? sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex Did I get the dog from the vet? New vet. sex sex sex sex sex sex. How old is that girl in the Miata? SEX, SEX, SEX, SEX, SEX, SEX, SEX, SEX…home at last, what the hell is that outside the front door? Can’t she get rid of it? Oh, look, she’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt and just gave me food, SEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEX…
Time to play video games. sex, oh gees I’m getting creamed, sex, but my character’s wearing this really hot dress, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, and my wife just gave me ice cream sexsexsexsexsexsexsexsexsexsexsexsexsexsexsexsexsexsex and she’s taking a shower and breathing SEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEX SEXSSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEX
SEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEX…
Bed Time.
Woman:
I ate too much, did I record that, have I recorded anything how much do I weigh anyway? No don’t remember that you want to keep the will to live. I’m in the car so I can think about the book will I get home in time to put the cave troll to bed or will he skip his nap and become a walking explanation for child abuse--oh, it's a stoplight...time to knit socks...and no baby don’t wake up now we’re ten minutes from home we’re nine minutes from home please don’t cry I can’t think I can’t breathe *whew* we’re home the baby’s eating and I’m pinned to the couch, at last an excuse to read. The cave troll has a bottle nap time for one of you go back to bed “For the love of God turn off the television so the babies can sleep. No I’m not mad at you. No, unpacking from vacation doesn’t count as allowance. I have no idea how much allowance you have. Okay, that sounds about right. KEWYN GO TO BED!!!!” Was that wrong should I have yelled at him but he’s tired he’s making us all crazy oh gees have I called the dentist yet? They’re on vacation? When I remembered to call them when it’s not lunch time? Well, I guess dentists get vacation too, the bathrooms are falling apart maybe we can go shopping for them this weekend does being able to see the table cloth count as having a clean house or do I have to get the crap out of the corners to has anyone seen the cat.Hey...I've got a moment to knit...what're the odds of that happening when I'm not at a traffic light? Oh, hey, BS is home--damn, time to fix dinner. “Hi—how was your day? Could you hold the baby while I make dinner? Thanks.” I hope that’s okay is it bad that the house is thrashed is the house always thrashed and I don’t greet him with a pipe and slippers but with a fussing infant? Will I lose the June Cleaver of the Year award, is there such a thing, and can you get it without the twenty-eight inch waist? Oh wait we’ve got dance lessons, and I need to sign the toddler up for gymnastics because the other kids have activities and I can’t just skip him because I’m busy I’m sure there are busier mothers out there who wear a size ten and have clean houses what’s my problem oh, gees, how much did I eat again and everybody’s in bed now and I smell like baby barf I need to wash that off.
Bed time.
Man: SEXSEXSEXSEXSEXSEX…
Woman: “Oh…really?”
Man: sex?
Woman: “Did you really want to do that right now?”
Man: sex? Please?
Woman: “I was really just sort of thinking about going to bed…”
Man: seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeexxxxxx…pleee-eeeee-eeeeee-eeeeasseee God I need some seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeexxxxxx.
Woman: “But if you can give me ten minutes or so to read my book, I might feel a little different.
Man: Thank you thank you thank you Harlequin/vampire romance/romantica book thank you thank you thank you I’m gonna get me some…
Well, you get the picture.
2 comments:
Ha so funny and true! I just recently found the Outlander series, does that count? Love it, and uh..so does my husband ;) Did I mention I REALLY am going to have to check out your books??
Hausfrau? Hmmm. doesn't it also work for single women? And police women? and corporate executive women? These books are an attractive way of getting our minds on the topic; of easing us into the mood. If only men knew . . . They would ply us with books and flowers rather than with booze and cheesy underwear. But cheesy underwear turns THEM on, so naturally . . . Hmmm. Maybe women ought to buy naughty lingerie to wear as a birthday present for their husbands. God knows he doesn't need another power tool.
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