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said, trying to
think of something to say, “I have learned to multi-task quite well
through my past jobs and I think that would be the most important
element of managing a household.”
    “ Of course,” he said,
leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head.
“And what kinds of skills do you have?”
    “ Well, I can cook, do
errands, clean, take care of the bills…”
    “ What can you
cook?”
    I couldn’t believe that I
was trying to clarify my skills as a housewife, much less speak of
myself as a housewife at all. After more than a decade in corporate
America, ambitiously plowing through the elite ranks of
twenty-first century global marketing departments, here I was
earnestly trying to be hired as a wife of the house. It seemed almost surreal,
as if I was half-pretending to be someone else who I wasn’t
supposed to be.
    “ Well, a little bit of
everything. What do you like?”
    “ I like American food.
Steak, potatoes and apple pie. Sometimes I like it a little more
contemporary and gourmet,” he quickly rattled on. “You would need
to cook breakfast, lunch and dinner, everyday, for me and the boys.
It must always be good and it must be on the table when we sit down
to eat.”
    “ Of course,” I said. “It
would be my job to take care of my men in the way they need to be
taken care of. Feed them when they are hungry and make sure they
are healthy and strong.”
    The conversation had quickly taken on a
feeling of the demanding employer and the eager interviewee who was
expressing her readiness to do anything and everything to get the
job. While at first it was a bit strange, there was something about
it that seemed very exciting and almost kinky.
    “ And what about when we
are out at social engagements? I attend events with some very
important people who tend to have very traditional values. Tell me
how you would act.”
    “ Well, I would be the
perfect American wife. I would be well versed on important topics,
supportive of my husband’s career, well dressed at all times and
eager to engage the other men’s wives so they looked upon me
favorably as your other half.”
    I couldn’t help but let out a slight smile
at my eloquent delivery. I could see he was quite pleased with my
answer.
    “ And what kind of
authority figure would you be to my boys?”
    The question took me back a bit. I had never
really imagined myself as an authority figure of any sort and the
image of being one to three teenage boys suddenly popped into my
head. I honestly didn’t know how to answer the question.
    “ Uhmmmm…I think I would
have to learn what it took and what they needed. I guess I would
try to balance being nurturing to them and at the same time molding
them as men.”
    “ They need someone who is
strict with them,” he responded bluntly. “Can you whip them into
shape?”
    A graphic image of me whipping his boys into
shape in the hidden confines of his pristine home filled my head. I
imagined them all butt naked, bent over the kitchen table as I laid
some prison whip into their backsides. Butterflies floated through
my belly and I had to do everything in my power to maintain my
composure.
    “ Yes, I will give them
what they need to be kept in line,” I replied to him in the most
confident voice I could muster. I struggled to swallow and hoped
that he wouldn’t ask me anything else about the
scenario.
    “ Very good,” he replied.
He looked back down at my resume as if he was taking time to ask
his next question. He looked back up at me and leaned
forward.
    “ I want to be honest with
you, Natalie. This would be a challenging position for you. Both my
sons and I are very emotionally guarded at this point in our lives.
Like I told you when I met you, this is why I am seeking to hire a
housewife. Until we feel like we can trust you and there is a
personal connection, there would be a certain distance between us.
You know how men are with their emotions.”
    “ Of course. I understand,”
I