I have this thing where older men like to talk to me. It’s like I’m Justin Beiber and they’re a teenage girl. They just can’t get enough of me and I am too polite to just ignore them.
Today was no exception. While sitting by myself – happily, I might add – at a coffee shop, an older gentleman (think the age Don Draper would be today) came over and sat down next to me. He nodded and I nodded back. “You’re a pretty girl,” he says to me. “That means you’ll make some guy a pretty wife.”
Okay, fine. He’s being nice. I say thank you and get back to my book thinking that’s it. That’s the end of this conversation. But no, he didn’t think so. He begins to ask me if I’m in school, if people tell me I look young for being a college student and if I have ‘a steady’. He’s being pleasant enough, if not invading my comfort zone and my ‘me’ time but I don’t want to be rude, so I go ahead and answer.
“I do have a boyfriend, yes,” I say, taking a sip of my latte.
“Do you know how to cook, then?” He gives a big grin, “A pretty girl like you oughtta know how to cook – even if you are going to school! Being a man’s wife is going to be your most important job.”
I don’t really know what the look on my face must have said to him but this guy skedaddled mighty quickly after that.
Look, I love being girlie. I wear vintage dresses like most girls wear sweat pants but starting at a really young age, I was always told by my mother that the most important thing to do in life is to make something of yourself first and not to focus on trying to find a husband. Like, if someone asked me if I had a meditation mantra, it’d probably be “make something of yourself” because that’s how often my mom says it to me. While there’s is nothing wrong with wanting to be someone’s wife (excuse me, but what lady out there hasn’t seen Say Yes to the Dress?), just make sure you know that you can make it on your own, too.
So yeah, you should know how to cook, but for you. Because you want to. Because chances are, your husband is gonna love you for being a smart, sassy, independent woman (I think I stole that line from either Oprah or Cosmo?) and he’d be totally fine with yesterday’s microwaved pizza instead, especially if it’s the kind with cheese-y crust.
Featured image courtesy of Robert S. Donovan.