I simply have no time.

Wash the clothes

Clean the house

Run his errands

Please him, placate him –

But satisfy myself?

That is not my role.

I make sandwiches,

Not money

I make babies,

Not business models

I must feed the children,

Have dinner by 5 o’ clock sharp

But keep it warm,

He doesn’t walk in until 6

Overlook the late nights

Accept the excuses

I am here to please,

Not to feel

The red marks on his collar,

The loose tie,

Mussed up hair?

Ignore it.

“Mother, mother!”

“Yes, Darling?”

“May I have a snack?”

My Bible is a cookbook

Not a checkbook

My Scriptures are recipes

Not tax forms

Just a pinch of spice, yes?

Enough to make it exciting,

But not too much

No one will like it

No need to be precise

Make the presentation spot on,

The taste absolutely phenomenal

No one will be the wiser

No one will know

My place is in the kitchen,

Not at the top of the corporate ladder

I am a housewife,

Not a chief executive officer

I am too weak,

Fragile and emotional

I am a porcelain doll,

Meant to be pretty and played with

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this!

You’re too emotional!”

Perfectly curled hair,

Some make-up – but not too much

That’s fake and misleading

How can I look like a doll without

Looking like plastic?

Proper dress,

Proper shoes,

Agreeable and silent,

Only speaking when spoken to

The proper woman.