I'm Too Old For This

I'm old-fashioned. I've heard from handfuls of people that I'm an "old soul."

[Disclaimer: My previous statement does not include the fact that I have a young potty mouth at this time, but I plead temporary insanity.]

If you're reading this, you most likely know my husband, and you most likely know that he is a real "manly man." He's a bad ass. He loves guns, pit bulls, trucks with big tires (which he then ironically "bags" them), and knowing he can protect and provide for his family.

An outsider looking in could easily think, "Wow... Jacee is kind of a dead beat.... She didn't finish college... She doesn't work... Well, what DOES she do?"

This next bit is something I've never felt like explaining; but the way we live has always been the plan. Our plan. Sure I might just be setting the Women's Right's movement back another 60 years, but this was always the plan.

You've likely seen the TV show "I Love Lucy" which I believe started airing around 1952. Sure I could look it up real quick, but don't care that much.

I musta been born in the wrong era because that's the lifestyle I want, and when Dan asked me to marry him, it was just known that that would be the life I'd get. It's the life we both want.

He told me that I will never work again because he'd bring home the bacon and I'd cook it.

He's the man and I am HIS woman.

I will get the pleasure of running around barefoot and pregnant.
I will make the bed every morning after he leaves for work.
I will never need to drive myself again.
I will find time to care for all the animals, wash the dishes, have laundry washed, dried, folded and put away before he comes home from work, push a vacuum for awhile, and there will be lunch on the table while the dinner meat is thawing.
I will collect the eggs and clean the coop.
I will do the grocery shopping, manage the bills and all the other mundane tasks of running a household.
He will chop and bring in the firewood, (but I will make the fire, because I like fire ;).

I am valued for reasons besides a dollar amount that I bring to the table.

I wish I lived in the days when people dressed up just to sit at the dinner table for a meal. Or people played cards with their friends and sent out cards in the mail.

The days when men would say, "You are beautiful," instead of, "You look beautiful."

I will continue to send out checks in the mail instead of signing up for automatic bill pay.

And when my cell phone contract is expired, that thing is GONE! You will then have to get ahold of me by calling my home landline, and I will get the pleasure of asking about your day, because ya know what? I am one of a declining population that genuinely care.

Gone will be the days of recieving texts that only say "Hey."

Really? Three letters? Don't even bother me. I also prefer that you smile at me in person instead of in a text.

Am I being demanding? Or has the evolution of technology made it so damn simple to forget about really connecting with others?

Maybe I've spent too many hours watching I Love Lucy and wondering why that time period had to go.

Too much change for this ol' fart.