A women’s commune?
Yes. And conjugal visits. Women living with the children and the other women. Think of how much we’d save on phone bills, baby sitters, psychiatric assistance and medication – to say nothing about the fun of big meals together and shared cooking.
I think the Greeks had something like that, the prominent ones. The wives were prisoners. They lived in a community with the children, and they couldn’t go out and about. The men were away at their job — war.
I’d like to have been a fly on those walls when they were talking about their warriors.
Men and women are too different to live together. Modern life has exacerbated the differences. We are so candid now. There is no pretense at understanding the other or thinking that he is noble or she is saintly, as they seemed to believe in the old days. We are two different creatures who really don’t understand each other very much, or, if we’re lucky, understand that we are very different.
My friend Donna says all wives hate their husbands.
What about the husbands?
Men tend to be less disappointed than wives.
Why hate?
We hate when someone we love lets us down. In marriage it’s bound to happen. So this forgiveness thing is going on all the time. Forgive me; I didn’t know.
I can’t forgive you; you should have known.
Forgive me; I want to understand.
I understand, but I can’t accept and I can never forgive.
So you think that if the women were in a commune the expectations would be more reasonable?
At least better defined, especially throughout these thorny childbearing years. And the help with the children – that’s worth a ton – no question.