Wake Me When The Kids Grow Up! 
          

  Domestic Engineer Gets Credit! 
 
 
I had tried for years to get my own credit card. You wouldn't 
beleive half the things I've done to credit applications in my 
attempts to secure a card. 
Being a housewife, I'm classified as "not employed", so instead
of "housewife" or "homemaker," I would write "Home Executive"
or "Domestic Engineer." 
In the space for salary I would always write in my husband's 
salary with a note, "check below" and direct them towards the
information below about my spouse.
Time and time again I was rejected, I was angry,hurt and very
frustrated.
My husband would console me by telling me that I did have credit
cards; HIS! Needless to say, this made me even more determined.
I continued to fill out and send in my applications. In the
mail one day came my chance.
Mastercard offered me my own card with a guarantee of being 
accepted. I couldn't beleive it. All I had to do was fill out the
application. I completed it, sent it off, and within the month I
had my very own credit cards, mine and an extra card for my hus-
band.
Several days after I received my card, I just had to break it in.
I went shopping and made a few purchases, keeping in mind not to
go over-board.
My husband came home that evening, and I told him of my very fir-
-st use of my very own credit card.
His relpy was, "Oh I forgot to tell you. I used it yesterday. It
was a great feeling, my using YOUR credit for a change!."
                
 
 

 
 

Washing Day Blues

 


Laundry, laundry everywhere. Laundry is not my favorite chore.
With a large family, atleast two loads a day and a never
ending cycle!

When growing up I was not taught housework, so with going into
marriage, each and every facet of home making was a learning
expereince. Unfortunately, my husband and children have been the
guinea pigs of my experimentations.

As with any newly acquired skill, there are bound to be mistakes.
One day early in my career started out like any other day,
gathering up clothes and sorting whites from colors and dark
clothes to be washed.

Next I threw the white clothes into the washer. Those included
all my husband's Tee-shirts and shorts, except for what he was 
wearing that day, put the soap in, pushed the start button,
and left to do other work.

When I returned to do the next load, I opened the washer to
find a tub full of shocking pink clothes! Digging through,
I found a bright red rag, that accidently got thrown in
with the rest of the whites.

I panicked! What was I going to do? My husband was definitely
not going to be happy! I didn't want to wait to find out, so I 
rushed out and bought a pack of dye remover. Hopefully it
would take out the beautiful fushia pink.

Following directions, I threw them in a big pot on top
of the stove and boiled them back to a whiter than white.

Next, I put the clothes back in the machine and re-washed
them to get the color remover out. When they had finished,
I started to hang the dazzling white clothes onto the line,
and peice by peice they fell into shreds!

I decided to finish the wash. Nothing I could do at the 
moment for the shreded under-wear! As, I put the darks
thruough that were my husband's work pants, I thought to
myself, "he is understanding, maybe he won't be to upset."

I pulled the second load out and noticed shreds of paper.
"Now what!" I thought to myself. Searching in the
bottom of the wash tub I found my husband's wallet!
All shiney and squeaky clean!

As my husband came home that evening, I was ironing
his social security card. His freshly pressed driver's
license, draft card and other important papers were
neatly hanging to dry.

"Hi Hon!, How was your day?" I asked. " It's been one
of those days. You know what I mean?" he replied.
"Nothing seemed to go right!" "You haven't seem my wallet 
have you?", I'm going to go take a shower and by the way, 
what are you ironing?"


                
 

 

 

These "Tales of Home" are published and copyrighted under the Pen Name
Elaine Stuart. Due to the volume of tales, I will try posting new ones 
every so oftened.