I personally am sick of the word “pussy” being associated with weakness. Every had to bathe a cat? Ever try to give birth?
YEAH.
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I must’ve saved this because the date printed in the lower-right hand corner of the panel is my birthday - not just because it was apt as all heck, lol.
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Right, and who gets to have the multiple big O’s? That’s right, pussy.
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How can I go wrong with any .gif containing Lucille Ball? I CAN’T.
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I finished “Too Much, Never Enough” yesterday, and WHY ISN’T THERE A “DADDY DEAREST”-TYPE MOVIE? Not just about Fred Trump - who makes Joan Crawford look like Mary Poppins (if "Mommie Dearest was in fact truth) - but ALLLL dysfunctional fathers who pass the dysfunction on?
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They have latest in weaponry but they can’t update socially. Sheezus pleezus.
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Joanie was not redeemed in “MD”. Robert Duvall’s “The Great Santini” is (he chooses to crash and die instead of crash and kill others); Woody Harrelson is in “The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio” (after his death, it’s discovered he put money into a trust fund for his family).
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One of my favorite people in the universe, and a woman that my father much admired; Erma Bombeck once wondered where she put her ponytail-elastics as there are no doorknobs in the wild.
I can only speak for myself, as I’ve been married twice; I think it’s because it’s expected of women to marry.
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Trigger warning: Attempted Rape and Its Aftermath. Enough so that yours truly had to fast-forward to the point where she escaped, and to make me cry when she was telling Archie what happened.
Another thing: I’m gonna be 56 in a few years. I remember my mom and aunts at that age, and their contemporaries. When exactly, or near so, did the depiction of women 50 and older become less…dowdy or prematurely aged? I’m not sure which description applies. Even in Golden Age of H’wood flims it shows up, though with those it seems to be more class-based or due to some sort of eccentricity of the character.
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It’s the hair and the clothing. If you look at her face in that episode, there’s nary a wrinkle. Some sagging, sure, but plastic surgery wasn’t so commonplace back then, even for actors, and personal trainers were only for action heroes, not housewife-types.
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Oh, I know - my mother was a more independent and better-read version of Edith Bunker, and she was friendly with folks of all ages. And she didn’t have a NY accent, lol - straight Michigan. And more worldly and tragedy stricken: She had every childhood disease known to man by the time she was 13 - in the rural area of Michigan’s thumb; her dad left home to work with the CCC to send money to the family during the Great Depression when she was two and she didn’t see him again for 20 years or so; and then suffered a bad divorce, five miscarriages, and a philandering husband. But she was friends with all the other ladies on both sides of our street, in fact around both blocks. sigh…Those were really nice, if kind of odd for a young girl, days. :-S
She was also the second-youngest out of seven girls and two boys; I’ve recently found LOTS of photos from the late 1930s/early 1940s…well, put it this way: Each one I find that makes me say, “Whoa!” is never the last one to evoke that response (yet).
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I remember when my dad got my mom a replica Edith dress. It seemed like an insult to me but I was like… seven or something so I may have missed a nuance.
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What year was it? And how old were they at the time?
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Before 1978; dad was late 40s, mom early 40s.
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I don’t know your family dynamic, but to me it sounds like a “Gee, I wonder if she would like this? It might look nice on her” type of gift.
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The shouting, smacks, and flying crockery of the time might have been related or not. I took it as my dad giving a “gift”, not a gift.
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Ah, I gotcha. My household’s abuse was emotional/mental/verbal.
I hope I didn’t trigger anything. 
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