Monday, September 20, 2010

Tart Tatin/September

I'm peeling apples.
It's been a while.
I try to peel in one long continuous strip. I fail.

Who does that?
Who can really peel an apple in one continuous strip and why do I feel
like less of a woman because I can't do it? No one really does that.

OK, maybe you do. But if you did then you practiced in order to say that
you can peel an apple in one strip and when you're dead your kids will be like
" Oh, you know my mom, she was so graceful and elegant and perfect and an
example of her perfection is that she could peel an apple in one long strip without breaking it. What a legend."
And the whole time the only real reason they can say that was because you practiced so they would say that.

No one is really that graceful and elegant and perfect.
Perfect people have dark secrets. They hoard food and let their dogs
lick peanut butter off their crotches in the basement. You don't want any of that. If you were somehow born knowing how to peel an apple perfectly than I feel sorry about whatever bad stuff is going on to balance that level of perfection.

I keep peeling apples.
I think about all this and silently release myself from the burden of having to
peel an apple in one long strip as the hallmark of femininity.
I start peeling down the apples instead of around.
I'm free.

1 comment:

Julia said...

I'd pick you over Meg Ryan any day, Naomi. :)

Also, I'm re-reading The Feminine Mystique. I'll be sure to take note when Betty mentions the singular apple peel strip as a hallmark of perfect femininity.