Sometimes I’m plagued by who I should be, things I should do.
I should be the kind of wife who makes supper for her husband every night. I should clean the bathroom every week. I should get up early and be happy about it. I should hum cheerfully while I dust.
Should, should, should.
Everyone’s got an opinion. Family especially. They’re all too happy to share their ideas on what a good wife is. They offer prescriptive rules dominated by the should clause. (more…)