Ironing Failure and Take Out

Yesterday seems a bust. My quest for ironing perfection was brought to a halt by a 2 year old with a 101 degree fever. Dinner also took a backseat, literally. I had the husband pick up pizza on the way home from work. I find myself weary and dreary this morning as I try to pull it together, thinking.. "WWDRD?" (Oh come now, surely I don't have to spell that out for you? Fair enough: What Would Donna Reed Do?) I wonder how chores were accomplished and meals prepared in 1950 with sick children underfoot? Surely I'm not to believe that June ever texted Ward on his way home from the office and said "Hey... pick up a pizza, would ya?" She would TOTALLY have gotten the business.

Well, putting yesterday aside, I think I am going to leave ironing with it (wasn't too keen on that task anyhow... though, extreme ironing is something I think I could get into) and move on to the next task. I think today, wait for it.... wait for it..., I will attempt a cake from scratch. That's right, you heard me - the way it used to be done. Just me, some flour and sugar... a few eggs... and an electric mixer. So what... I'm pretty sure Alice (Brady Bunch) had an electric mixer and how much more domestic does it get? That's for this afternoon, this morning - I'm going to attempt a feat that baffles modern science: folding all the laundry that has been stacking up in baskets for the past week.

Yours truely,
The Attempted Housewife