It's amazing how roaming the home aisles of a department store (scanner in hand) puts me in the mood to discard my feminist ideals, throw on a pair of high heels and fake pearls, and spend hours vacuuming and baking cupcakes (with pink icing and sprinkles)!
There's something fantastically old-fashioned about a "bridal" registry complete with baking pans, expensive mixer, and a shiny Dyson vacuum. (Although, my mom is quick to remind me that there was no such thing as a registry when she got married in the '70s.) I can't help it! Every time I think of our registry I envision white picket fences, fancy dinner parties, with the set from Leave it to Beaver in the background.
Maybe it's because I'm still a six year old at heart, but when my FH and I made our first trip to register I got giddy thinking about all the fun I'll have playing house, just as I did in the play kitchen in my kindergarten classroom. ("I'm the Mommy, and you're the Daddy.")
This all leaves me to wonder, are my fiance, the bridal industry, and society involved in an elaborate plot to make me learn to clean, bake, and someday become a housewife? Perhaps ... but I still want a rolling pin.
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