How many times have you heard a woman say that she has no job, that she’s just a homemaker? It’s not a phenomenon only in our modern times to judge value purely by economic return. If you’re a woman “with no job,” you can relate to this. Here’s a short story from a magazine published in 1912.
It was a chilly morning. B-r-r-r! Mrs. Smith–that’s Mother–smothered the sound of the alarm clock in the blankets and got up–at once. Father peacefully snored on.
Mother was terribly tired, but she didn’t have time to think of that. She went to the kitchen, fumbled about for a match and lit the fire, which she had laid the night before.
Then she returned upstairs to dress. She shook Father. “Tom, it’s time to get up!” “Uh-huh,” groaned Father, and turned over for another nap. This was just the first call to breakfast.
She went downstairs again and put more coal on the kitchen fire and soon the ham she had sliced the evening before was frying in the pan, with eggs she had brought over from the store just opening up for the day.
Then she spread the cloth and laid the plates. Again she climbed the stairs. “Tom, breakfast is ready: it’s six o’clock, and you’ll be late to work.” Then she put her head in at another door. “Ralph, it’s time to get up! Ralph, do you hear?…Ralph!”
She got four breakfasts that morning: Father’s, Ralph’s, the children’s, and Antoinette’s. And when the school bell was ringing, she discovered that little Gertrude hadn’t put on the clean dress that had been laid out for her and so she had to hustle her into it. And five-year-old Jack, when he was dressed for the kindergarten, went out into the year to help Dorothy Smith, a year younger than he, make mud pies, and the work of dressing had all to be done over again.
Just at this juncture, Antoinette called from upstairs: “Where is my pink bow? I can’t find it.” Mother hurried upstairs, breathing hard in the climb, and went into Antoinette’s room. She opened two drawers and then: “Here it is, just where you left it.”
Then she washed dishes, and dried them too; she had thought of asking Antoinette to dry them, but remembered that Antoinette was the only one of the family that had talent, and so she was left to the practice of her music lesson. After making the beds she had to sweep and tidy the front room, for Antoinette’s beau was coming that night, and after doing that she had it in mind to sit down for a moment and look over the morning paper, but recalled the fact that Ralph’s suit had to gotten ready to send to the cleaner.
Just then there was a knock on the door. It was the man collecting names for the “City Directory.” Thomas Smith, carpenter,” he wrote, “Ralph Smith, clerk; Mrs. Susan Smith, no occupation.”
