I Am Woman ~ La Dolce Vita

I knew several girls who married well, but they all became the same girl; same pale hair, same pale lips, same pale weekend garmentry. They had nice houses and nice cars and they went to yoga on Wednesdays. I envied them.  One time I was spending the weekend at the nice house of a nice pale haired girl and her husband. There was a Sunday lunch (a good mix of married-well girls, corduroyed husbands and lonely hearts like me). It was a cheerful meal. Afterwards I followed the pale haired girl into the larder to help with the cheese – cheese that had been brought back from France for just such a jolly occasion as this. In the gloom of the larder the pale haired girl began to cry. All the time she was crying she held the cheese in front of her at waist level, on a cheese board. It shook a bit, but it didn’t fall. The shaky cheese, the larder setting and my prejudicial envy of all well-married, pale haired girls made me awkward. I didn’t know what to say. So I just said, ‘Would you like me to stay here in the larder with you?’ She nodded; big, shivery nods.
‘Sweetie, everyone else is walking around pretending to be a successful adult too.’ ~ Your Aunt Lola
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