Home economics for girls and shop class for boys.
The 1960s pigeonhole view of the world.
In Milk River, where I grew up, it was a tradition long set.
And trying to buck convention didn’t work.
Trust me, I tried . . .
They had the
wondrous world of power tools to explore as they overhauled engines and built
furniture.
We learned the proper use of a skillet, how to clean
anything and sewing our sleeves in backwards. (Okay, they really didn’t teach
that last – that’s just how I did it.)
Mostly, it was all right.
I mean, I like cooking and cleaning and sewing.
But when you do it at home a lot, there’s really not much
excitement to doing it at school, too. Right?
Well, there wasn’t for me.
Every day, when we reported to our Home-Ec lab, it was not
without a longing glance at the line of boys heading in the opposite direction.
In Fort Macleod, where Husby grew up, it was the same. The
girls went one way.
And the boys the other. But that wasn’t the end of their
perks.
Not only did they get to fool around with potentially
life-threatening implements, they also got to eat whatever the girls had
whipped up.
Can anyone spell n.o.t. f.a.i.r.?
Sigh.
One such day stands out in Husby’s mind . . .
The aromas wafting from the kitchens down the hall had been
teasing the young men all afternoon. Causing them to be even less attentive
than usual.
I know that’s hard to fathom but stay with me.
Just as they were threatening to fall to the cold cement in
a hunger-induced swoon, the door opened and manna from Heaven walked in.
Fine. It was several girls carrying slices of pie.
Sheesh.
There was only one thing wrong.
There weren’t enough pieces of pie to go around.
Rather than start what was sure to be a battle to the death,
the teacher announced that each boy could have exactly half of one of the
slices.
Numbly, they agreed.
Husby and his good friend, Donny MacLean were handed one of
the plates.
Husby, ever the gentleman, told his friend to eat half and
then give the rest to him.
Donny nodded happily and Husby turned away, intent on
whatever he had been doing when their class had been interrupted.
A few moments later, Donny nudged Husby with the plate.
It was finally his turn.
Eagerly, he reached for his share of the treat. And found himself
staring at a gaping, empty shell. He turned and glared at his ‘friend’.
“I saved you half,” Donny said, shrugging.
Pie with friends. Brings a whole new meaning to ‘taking your
half out of the middle’ . . .
I am glad that I'm not the only one who wanted to take shop!
ReplyDeleteWe should start a club!
DeleteSmiling on this one! It did bring back a memory of learning to sew at school. I remember I made a dress and I unpicked it so many times that by the time I was finished with it I hated the dress.
ReplyDeleteHugs!
I could send you my purple disaster. I never wore it. Ever. Hated the thing by the time I was done! Must have been the number of times I had to re-do.
DeleteI'm sure he got even the next time pie was served.
ReplyDeleteHe hasn't mentioned that part. I'll ask him . . .
DeleteDonny and I would have gotten along fine - I like the crust best anyway!
ReplyDeleteMmm . . . if it's done just right. I'm with you!
DeleteI'm with Lana - I like the crust better, too ... But I bet Husby watched Donny like a hawk after that :)
ReplyDeleteNext pie night, I'll make a special, just for You and Lana, Jenny! Deal?
DeleteFor a moment I visualised the boys turning on power saws to slice the pieces of pie in half.
ReplyDeleteShame on Donny!! cheeky boy.
Probably a good thing Husby didn't think of that. Might have been missing a lot more than pie filling! :)
Deletewow, this is great, sure brings back memories! and wherever did you get that painfully authentic picture?
ReplyDeleteIsn't it amazing?! It looks EXACTLY like our HomeEc room at good Old Erle Rivers High in Milk River.
DeleteWhen we were just finishing Jr. High we had the opportunity to trade with the girls. It was great and I'm sure Ms. Dorothy was never the same after opening the doors to that hallowed Home-Ec room to a bunch of adolescent boys with raging hormones. http://gearheadsncoffeestains.blogspot.ca/2012/12/boys-with-aprons.html
ReplyDeleteWhat was cooking in your kitchen?! ;)
Delete