I hate her cutesy tic-tac-toe hotpads, her stupid tuna casserole, and her guts.
What happened to change these happy apron-wearing little girls into miserable apron-wearing women?
Does the brunette covet more from the blonde than her red apron? Her place in the coffee klatch pecking order? Her husband? Her joie de vivre?
Did they finally figure out it's more fun when you are just pretending to play house?
Or did it all change when they moved to Stepford?
It all changed after the babies arrived, when the apron ties didn't quite span the skinny area shown in the pattern pictures, when a quick tuna noodle casserole didn't cause much clothes clean-up fuss, and the hubby - arriving home to wailing kids and a newspaper he couldn't read until the tots were put to bed- failed to notice, for good or bad, what she was wearing.
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