On the Radio
“This week on Weekend
Woman's Hour, we talk to Denise and Robert Matthews; a couple who've
completely reversed their traditional roles. Denise works full time
as an estate agent whilst husband Robert works full time at home
doing the laundry and ironing, cleaning, gardening, grocery shopping,
cooking, washing up... everything.” presenter Janine Murphey
introduced. “Now, Denise... can you talk us through a typical
working day?”
“Of course Janine,
and hello.” Denise replied. “I get up around six-thirty, seven AM
and have a quick shower before breakfast, which Robert has lovingly
prepared for me. He straightens the bed and gives the bathroom a once
over before laying out my clothes for the day...”
“He chooses your
clothes?” Janine quizzed.
“Oh no, not at all.”
Denise said. “I tell him what I'll be wearing and he'll lay it out
and whilst I’m dressing, he's clearing up the breakfast dishes and
preparing my packed lunch...” she goes onto describe him handing
her her case and coat, seeing her off, briefly explains her working
day which ends at 5pm. “I return home to a cooked dinner and we
dine together, and whilst Robert's clearing the table, cleaning the
kitchen and washing the dishes, I'll either catch up on some
paperwork or put my feet up in front of the TV.”
“And Robert... what's
your typical day like?” Janine asked.
Sunday School
We'd moved here a few
months ago and I quickly made new friends, both at school and in the
neighbourhood. There's a place called Cooper's Quarry which is now a
formal garden with paths, benches, flowerbeds, an orchard and a
glade. It used to be an adventure playground and according to the
group of kids I'd befriended, it was 'totally ace'. They spent many
hours playing there, and the more dilapidated it became, the more fun
they had... then the council decided it was dangerous and removed all
the fun stuff, replacing it with flowerbeds and benches which are
only good for OAPs and parents with pushchairs.
A few weeks ago, we
were passing through Cooper's Quarry and reminiscing about how much
fun they had there, as well as grumbling about how boring it is now.
I could only take their word for it since the space was redesigned
before we moved to the area. Climbing frames, elevated walkways, rope
swings and a 'death' slide sounded loads better than what there is
now. Looking back, I'm not sure who started it, but it didn't take
long for the rest of us to join in; stomping on the flower beds,
uprooting shrubs, breaking branches, booting the bins and benches
over and generally destroying or disturbing whatever we could.
The act of vandalism
was front page news in the local paper, which stated that one of the
gang had been caught at the scene and the others ran off. That one
was me, but I didn't grass my mates up. I'd have got my head kicked
in if I had, and no one wants to be friends with a grass... so
keeping shtum and taking the rap all on my own was, I believed, in my best interests. Being a
minor meant they they couldn't print my name in the paper, nor could
the authorities fine me for the damage caused, make me do x
hours of community service or anything much... the most they could do
was make me attend Sunday School which sounded really boring. The
judge who heard my case said that I'd have to attend Sunday school
for a period no less than 48 weeks and no more than 48 months, and
that my attendance period would be closer to 48 weeks if I did the
decent thing and gave the authorities the names of my accomplices. I
refused and claimed that they were some kids I’d just met and I
didn't know their names or where they lived... but they knew I was
lying, I knew I was lying, and I knew that they knew I was lying.
The Charboy's Apprentice
This is a follow up story from Studying Servitude: An Article.
...it's probably worth reading that before this.
~o0o~
It's half term and
Charles is busy following his daily rota and pottering around the
house. His mother is at work. His big sister Emily stayed over at one
of her friends and isn't expected back until the afternoon, and
eleven year old Samantha is playing on her games console. Charles
only had to make one packed lunch whilst he prepared the family
breakfast, and the mornings aren't quite so much of a rush since he
doesn't have to leave for school this week... but on the downside, no
school means he has to wear his corset beneath his housekeeping
uniform as well as a full face of make-up.
As usual, he quickly
vacuums the landing and runs the hoover around his bedroom, his
mother's bedroom and his sister's rooms. In spite of the fact his
elder sister's not even been in the house since yesterday, her
bedding still needs straightening and she's left her tights tangled
up in her underwear again. After a quick tidy round, he pushes the
hoover to Samantha's room where he knocks and enters. “Aren't you
dressed yet?” he asked, finding her slumped on her bed in her
pyjamas and fully focussed on her hand-held console.
“You haven't put
anything out for me yet.” she replied with raising her eyes from
the screen.
“It's the holidays...
I only put your clothes out on a school day.” he reminded her. But
knowing that Samantha would spend all day in her pyjamas if she
could, he opened her closet and asked if she wanted jeans or
leggings. Following her instructions he put out some leggings, some
underwear, a pair of socks and a T-shirt for her, before quickly
running the vacuum cleaner around. She tutted at the noise, and
tutted again when he asked her to move so he could straighten her
bedding.
After quickly cleaning
the family bathroom and the en-suite in his mother's bedroom, Charles
carried the vacuum cleaner downstairs and parked it in the hallway.
He grabbed a stiff brush from the cleaning cupboard and proceeded to
sweep the stairs from top to bottom. Perched on his knees, he quickly
and briskly swept every step, letting the dust fall on to the next
one down. Samantha emerged from her room, fully clothed and carrying
her console. “So... you got any plans today?” he asked.
“Not really.” she
replied. “Apart from this.” she added, raising the games console
which these days is seemingly glued to her hand.
“You could give me a
hand if you fancy.” Charles suggested
“Nah.” she bluntly
replied. “Housework's for boys.” she said as she went on her way.
PJs Caption Corner
Dominated, petticoated, domesticated, prettified, chastised, feminised, hypnotised, shaved, groomed, blackmailed, bribed, coerced or worse... there's lots of reasons why and there's over three hundred of my captions available on the Caption Corner blog.
Enjoy... and feel free to 'pin' :)
Many of my old captions are still knocking around on Pinterest, but I missed having my own board where I could keep them all in one place. My 'pictures' page has gotten way too big so I've made a new blog for my captions. I've removed most duplicates from my Pictures page, which means if you can't find an old favourite caption, you'll find it in the caption corner.
I'm trying to recreate all my old pin-boards as best I can, boards such as Domestic Menswear, Educational Attire and Boy's Bedrooms... which are now labels on certain captions. If you're looking for male maids or school uniforms, boys attending a ballet class or a peek inside their bedroom, just follow the labels. They're accessible from the pop-out menu on the sidebar and are listed on the About PJ's Caption Corner page.
I'll miss getting a constant feed of captions from all the pin-boards I followed, but I'll just have to get used to that. I will continue adding my old captions over the next few days/weeks, then I'll be posting plenty of new captions over at the caption corner, as well as posting new stories here.
Enjoy... and feel free to 'pin' :)
a new caption
My pictures page is getting too big and my Pinterest pages have gone... so here's a new caption:
 |
| A Newspaper Cutting |
A Tight Spot
Mrs Spencer is wiping
the windowsill of a back bedroom window when she notices two
schoolgirls walking down the alley at the back of the house. She doesn't recognise either of them so they
certainly don't live on this terrace, and it's not an alley that leads
to anywhere so they can't be taking a short cut. She thinks they're
acting suspiciously; the girl with the French braids appears nervous and keeps looking
over her shoulder. Mrs Jackson steps back from the window and keeps a
covert eye on them. “What are they up to?” she asked herself as
they drew to a halt by the back gate. When the gate began to open,
she darted down the stairs to find the two intruders sneaking in
through the back door “What are you doing in here?!” Mrs Spencer barks. “Get
out of my house now or I'll call the police!”
“Mum it's me.” the girl with the French plaits says, looking up at his mother and gulping.
“James!” his mother
realises. “What are you doing? Why are you dressed like that?”
she gasped, looking him up and down. A pair of black leather ballet
shoes are on his feet. His thin legs are clad in thick back tights
and a short pleated skirt hangs from his waist. The girl who stands
sheepishly beside him is dressed almost identically, although she
wears a lilac winter coat whilst he wears a school blazer; and a
girls one at that. “You've got make-up on too!” his mother states
as she peers into his timid eyes.
“I can explain.”
James says.
“Well it'd better be
good!” his mother barked. “Come on!” she said, before herding
them both into the parlour.
“Can I get changed
first?”
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