A friend of mine posted on facebook recently about a particularly bad day that ended with “and I couldn’t even go home because my cleaning lady was there.” She then made a joke about having “first world problems,” at which I had to laugh even though I didn’t really understand–is there some ettiquette thing about being in the house with the help? Being that, socially, I’m more closer to being “the help” than than the Lord of The Manor or whatever, I still think I’d want to be around to, you know, keep an eye on the silver candlesticks and the liquor cabinet (okay, we have a shelf in the pantry, but still….)
That really has little to do with my post (big surprise, eh?) except for the concept of “first world problems.” And speaking of first world problems, thousands of people who must be living really, really dull lives are all worked up about a Columbian women’s bicycle team and their new uniforms. I myself have no comment beyond a snort and a shake of my head.
Distinguished, notable feminists Gloria Steinem, Irina Dunn, and Flo Kennedy have alternately been credited with popularizing the phrase, “A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.” While I’m all about feminism, living in a house full of women I have sometimes taken pause to wonder if said fish ought not to be the one called to relocate spiders, fix leaking pipes, and remove bloody piles of rodent parts left by the cats as tribute on the back porch? I have learned, in my maturity, to defer to Tennyson:
“Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die.”