I’m in charge of most of the domestic stuff in our household. For right now it makes sense. I’m not entirely comfortable with this arrangement because at times I feel pigeon holed into a June Cleaver / Martha Stewart type place where there’s something weird about me if I’m not super into glue guns, cake decorating, rom-coms, and freaking out about all the products and seemingly innocent shenanigans that the news constantly informs us can KILL OUR CHILDREN.
Not that there’s anything wrong with glue guns, cake decorating, or rom-coms or people who like them. Just like there’s nothing wrong with taxidermy, ice hockey, or Star Trek conventions or people who like them. They’re all good people; I like the people. It’s just that when people try to relate to me by talking about any of those topics I’m lost within five minutes, have trouble following, and just end up nodding politely and feeling uncomfortable.