My mom and I just took the Tenement Museum Tour in NYC, and this conversation happened afterward. In my head. And this is not a sponsored post, except by guilt.
Cast of Characters:
Ann Imig: Stay-at-home humorist LTYM National Director 2012, Mother of 2.
Ann: I’m tired.
Jenny: (translated from Yiddish) Worrrrrd.
Ann : I’m working so hard! I’ve precious little energy to blog or tweet!
Jenny: I’m working so hard in my 300 square foot tenement apartment/garment workshop filled with my family of four, plus three workers (presser, baster, finisher) with no electricity (hasn’t been invented) nor running water, I’ve precious little energy left to clean out the tuberculosis spittoon in the cutting/basting/presser/sewing room/parlor/sauna or cough the coal soot out of my lungs. CLEAR! Watch the garment runner. He may only be 12, but he’s fast as hell.
CLEAR! Watch the midwife-- she’s got to run down three flights for some water so I can give birth to my third in the back room before dinner.
Ann: Back room? I thought that was the pantry.
Jenny: CLEAR! Now if the presser could just get the hell out of my kitchen for once, I’ve got to make lunch for seven and then go protest the kosher meat price-hike before my water breaks.
Ann: Kitchen? I thought that was the walk-in closet.
Jenny: Do me a favor and keep an eye on baby Hyman. Yep, that’s his crib adjoining the stove and the twenty-pound iron. As soon as baby Sollie pops, Hyman gets the big-boy bed under the ironing board.
Ann: Bed? I thought that was the rag pile.
Ann: I can’t stay. Just stopped by to drop off a postcard for my show! Would you mind putting up a poster in your no-bathroom? Please join us at Listen To Your Mother Barrymore this Sunday at 3pm in Madison, Wisconsin!
Jenny: We work Sundays. Please stop leaning on Paulines’ bed. I know, you thought it was the kitchen chair, because it is the kitchen chair. Now either pick up the sheers or a sewing needle or come downstairs and help me beat back the meat-scabs. Those wenches don’t know what’s about to hit them if they buy brisket at 20 cents a pound.
Ann: Sorry Jenny, I’m plum tuckered out from sight-seeing and stuffing my face. You know how that goes. Well, Happy Mother’s day! Easy labor!
Jenny: Easy labor. That is when we work 12 hours instead of 17, no? CLEAR!!!