• 1 hour a day for cooking
• 1 hour a day for cleaning
That's it on the whole. Only 2 hours a day of work. Such a hardship.
"But wait! It takes longer to do the washing than 1 hour!" Wrong, you just stick it into the washing machine - put in the soap - select the cycle - then walk away. Once or twice in a week. Then you take it out and throw it into the dryer and choose the cycle and walk away - if you're too lazy or the weather is wrong for hanging it out in the sun. It might take an hour to iron, yet realistically most women don't bother for most of that.
"It takes longer than an hour to vacuum!" Don't bother lying. I have a 4-bedroom home and it takes me half an hour once or twice a week. More if I get out the mop and wash the polished wooden floors in the kitchen and laundry. It might take a half-hour to wipe down the windows and windowsills and dust in one room, then it's fine for a week at least.
"But the kids make a mess in the place!" If they're spilling food everywhere and tracking mud through then you're not disciplining them right - spank their fuckin' ass so that they learn proper habits and manners. If they're throwing their toys and clothing everywhere then stop picking up after them, spank their ass, and make them put it away themselves.
"I need to watch the baby!" So? You mean that you have to keep an eye on them every second of the day? Bullshit, reality is that you call up a friend and the two of you get together and chat while playing peekaboo with the kidlets as they're crawling around on the floor or in the grass. It hardly takes 1% of your attention and brainpower. (If it does then you have to be subnormal - stop playing with the crayons and picking your nose.)
A simple 2 hours a day of work, what utter hardship. I spend more time doing stuff in the garden and back yard on the weekend, sweating to clean up overgrown plants and mow and paint and plan and build the cute little gazebo and paths that you want. Two hours a day? Hah.
The crowning glory though: feminism taught you women that you need careers to be fulfilled.
Now you do the same 9+ hour workday that we men always had to do. Now you suffer in 1 hour commutes that we men always had to do. Now you do that, so that you can "have it all" like us men. Then you marry those of us who "measure up to your standards" (make more money than you), bitch that we're not doing "our share" of the housework, and get in a huff when you can't be a stay-at-home mommy any more.
Because there are too many of you doing career work that was once men's work, so wages are lower than they should be. Competition's a bitch.
I have a small slice of schadenfreude, spiced with your whining tears, every day. It warms what you say is my small soul.
Small? My soul is large, greater than your own. I would happily have worked myself to death for a decent, loving wife who would stay at home - do simple things around the house - give me a grateful kiss for the life of ease that I'd be giving her - be happy to raise our children - and shag me rotten, filled with lust and love and gratitude for the life of ease and protection that she and her children have.
Too late. Its broken. Your whining about your hardship has taught men the sucking and ungrateful void that is your nature, that is your soul.
The genie is out of the bottle, the damage is done, your perfidious nature is on display for all to see. We men do look, pointing things out to each other, laying our hands upon the gears and levers and readouts. "See? Here. And here. And here. You get it, mate? Good - be warned. They're all like that. Don't expect different from any of them."
We watch detached, as you play your little social games of one-upmanship and cutting remarks. We take our notes. We make our judgements. We dig through your inconsistencies. We find the truths hidden by the lies.
We see that the Empress has no clothes, and we know why, and we know the reason behind the why.
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