Thursday, July 28, 2016

Vagina Soup: It's What's For Dinner

I despise receiving the dreaded "What's for dinner?" text from my family. My usual reply is "Shut the fuck up soup." My friend and I joke "STFU soup... it's what's for dinner!"

I've don't enjoy cooking, and I often dream of having a personal chef who grocery shops and prepares me amazing meals. I'd be marvelously skinny, because everything the chef prepares would be calorie-free. (At this point in my daydream, I am usually slammed back into reality when the smoke detector goes off from the burning, frozen pizza in the oven.) Now... I can cook. I'll clean the gutters and then make a fabulous five-course dinner. I resent the pressure to cook a family dinner for no other reason than the fact that I have a vagina.

Why is it that certain domestic tasks make some women feel like this? I have memories of my grandmother (the one who disowned me) waking up at 4am to prepare my grandfather's breakfast and lunch. She would lay his clothes out and, after his shower, she would comb and blow dry his hair. Finally, she'd bend down and tie his shoes for him. Bend down and tie his shoes! This memory has stayed with me and influenced my thoughts on equality. "Hey, wait... you're no better than me. I do all things the same as you do. We are only different because I have a vagina. Period."

It perplexes me that women do the exact same things as men, and yet, we are still not treated as their equals. My husband understands my overwhelming issues with equality, and he often helps plan dinner, buy groceries, and cook! He and I are a team: laundry, dishes, bathes for the kids, etc. I am lucky to have a husband who understands our mutual roles. Women shouldn't be the only domestic persons. We shouldn't feel guilt and pressure to take on domestic chores because we possess the V. Women are amazing on multiple levels and are capable of so much more than dinner planning and housework.

 So, what's for dinner?... Vagina soup!

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