1. What do feminists have against cookies?
Simcha Fisher, whom I sometimes wanna be when I grow up, has this fabulous smackdown of an Amanda Marcotte rant about a study suggesting many women want to stay home with their kids. Fisher shows how sexist Marcotte's attitudes are. Which is fine, but not my issue.
Marcotte writes:
I]f you suggested that I could spend my life baking cookies without nary [sic] a worry of money again, I’d probably indulge that fantasy [of staying at home] for a minute, too.Remember when Hillary Clinton got in trouble as First Lady-to-be for a similar remark?
Women can take care of themselves, as Fisher amply demonstrates. I want to know who is going to defend the defenseless cookies?
Chocolate chip or peanut-butter cookies fresh from the oven are the stuff of childhood memories.What is Christmas without Christmas cookies? What is Italy without biscotti and amoretti dipped in espresso? What is Mexico without "wedding cakes" and churros? What is Germany without springerles and pfefferkuchen? What is the internet without Neiman Marcus recipes? Could women's magazines survive without cookies? How could Mrs. Fields and Famous Amos and the Keebler elves have payed for their kids' educations? Would Pepperidge have a farm? How could college students survive without something to toss?
Women? You're on your own. But they can have my oreos and mint Milanos when they pry them from my cold, dead, dipped-in-milk-or-coffee fingers.
2. Killing my urge to kill.
I need a form of indoor exercise I'm not ashamed to be seen doing. Or a better class of workout clothes: something. If I don't periodically "quitar los demonios," as the Mexicans say, with a thorough pounding, it is likely I will give someone else a thorough pounding. My obstacle is little boys. Now that mine and the neighborhood's are big enough to walk to each others' houses, there are always a passel of them here. I love it; I want to be the kind of house kids like to hang out in. But ever since the boys started being here at all hours, I can't get any exercise for fear of being seen in skimpy clothes in compromising positions by someone outside the fam. Bad for the bottom line (see above), but worse for the temper. Although if I lose it with the neighbor kids, I suppose they'd stay away long enough for me to p90X.
"Or," you say, "You could get up earl...." LALALALALAIcan'thearyou.
