As the Knitting Needle Turns
A friend of mine recently commented ruefully that her life felt like a soap opera. I don’t think people watch soaps as much as they used to—I don’t at all—but I sure remember them from my childhood. My mother had a whole slew of them that she watched and, if I was sick or hurt enough to not be able to go to school, I would get to lie on the couch with a blanket and a pillow and watch the soaps with her. This seemed terribly grown-up to me, so I thought of it as a privilege in spite of the fact that much of what was going on went right past me.
Perhaps because I’m nursing an injury, or perhaps because I’m Ms. Knitingale, a known whacknut, I got to thinking what it might be like to REALLY have your life be a soap opera. Seems like it has its ups and downs….see what you think:
When you get up in the morning, you will always have full make-up and perfect hair (or, if not perfect, sexily disheveled) and you will be wearing a silky nightgown with little straps. It won’t be wrinkled from sleep, and you will put a perfectly matching robe over the top of it. Neither of these items will have any stains or tears or fade marks.
If you have just spent the night with a new person, you will both be naked. However, in spite of having spent the entire night engaged in wild monkey love, neither of you will allow the other to see you naked. Indeed, you will pull the entire sheet off the bed in order to cover yourself. Neither of you will have morning breath.
If you bother with breakfast, it will not be a slice of cold pizza or a handful of dry Lucky Charms; rather, it will be half of a grapefruit. No one will ever see the other half.
You will dress expensively no matter what you have planned for the day, right down to high heels just to hang around the house. You will never wear the same thing twice.
You will not be required to do much housework at all. At most, you’ll be required to vacuum one or two swipes across a spotless carpet before the doorbell or phone rings (which you’ll hear over the vacuum with no problem). You’ll never clean a toilet (you’ll never use one, either) or scrub a floor, but the house will always be clean.
Likewise, you’ll never go shopping but will occasionally come into the house with a mysteriously acquired single bag of groceries (always in a paper bag), which will have a loaf of French bread and some flowers on top. You’ll never put the groceries away, but they’ll get put away anyway.
There will always be a bowl of fresh fruit on the table, without a single brown banana or fruit fly. No one will ever be seen eating it, although someone might toss an apple thoughtfully from hand to hand while talking to you.
You will rarely have the need to bathe; when you do, you will need to pile your hair onto your head into a fetching mass of curls, with little tendrils escaping at your neck and temples. You will also need to put enormous amounts of bubbles into the tub. You will never need to shave your pits, but you will need to shave one strip on the outside of one calf. The tub will be huge, and the water and bubbles will come up to your neck.
You will never get junk mail, but may get misdirected mail which you will need to take to the hunky next door neighbor who will then attempt to seduce you. If you hate him, you’ll love him later. If you love him, you’ll hate him later.
If you’re married, your husband will do a job that requires him to always wear suits and carry a briefcase. Beware—it will also require him to have a curvy secretary. And one or both of you will definitely have at least one affair.
You will eat in restaurants frequently, and they will always be expensive and elegant. They do not have Denny’s, IHOP, or McDonalds in soap opera land.
If you get pregnant, you will always be beautifully so, with no bloating, crankiness, or other nasty side effects. At most, you may need to be wan and pale from time to time. You will have a small bump, but absolutely no other weight gain. Even better, you will only need to be pregnant for a matter of weeks. When the baby arrives, it will be perfect (and often about 3 months old) and you will feel and look wonderful. Your hair and make-up will still be perfect.
The baby’s paternity will be in question.
You will not have to worry about losing post baby weight—you won’t have any.
Most of the time, the baby will gradually disappear shortly after you have it. You won’t have a nanny, and you won’t really do much to take care of it…but it will all work out.
Your child will age very rapidly, though you will age not at all.
Your child will, as soon as possible, go to some kind of far away school, and will come back significantly older. Sometimes he’ll even be a different person.
You may need medical attention; this can be sticky because it will always be for something serious and rare. If the doctor runs tests, be assured they will be abnormal. Whatever the illness is, however, you will still look lovely.
You will never need dental care, but will have blindingly white teeth.
Car accidents are not uncommon, and there are typically three possible outcomes: you will die beautifully, you will go into a coma beautifully, or you will lie in the hospital beautifully, with hair and make-up intact, a bruise on one cheek and/or forehead, and one arm in a sling.
If you have a job, it will not require that you do much and you will have plenty of time to talk on the phone, run out to meet men, etc. It will, however, be very prestigious.
If you have any pets at all, they will be beautiful and perfectly behaved and groomed. There will be no need to clean up after them and there will be no pet hair on your clothing or surfaces. You will never have to worry about stepping in cat puke in the wee hours. In fact, most of the time you won’t see them at all, except when it is tender to have one of them nuzzle you as you cry.
Unfortunately, crying is fairly essential in soap opera land. But you’ll do it beautifully.
You will have and attend many dinner parties, at which everyone will be engaged and happy (until someone hits someone else) and everyone loves the food. There will never be an awkward silence while you try to get the party started.
If you ever have to pay bills, it will be while sitting at a large, elegant desk and will involve signing and tearing out one check before the phone or doorbell rings. You will never have to worry about balancing your checkbook.
You will never paint your nails, but they will always be perfectly manicured.
You will own little mules with feathers and suchlike, instead of ratty old slippers.
You will never try to make a meal out of a handful of M & M’s and a half a can of diet Dr. Pepper; indeed, you will never eat much at all unless it’s that breakfast grapefruit or a dinner out. Or it’s Thanksgiving or Christmas.
You will never have bad hair, a run in your nylons, a chipped nail, food in your teeth, a pimple on your forehead, or the hiccups.
But you probably won’t get to knit much, either…..which begs the question, what good is it?