It’s the fifties, and yet, not every family as those families know lived in a brownstone with 2.5 children and every modern tact of amenities. A toaster, an iron, a vacuum all luxuries for the day. Among some of the things women do, learned bad-housewife misbehavior such as giving your baked-over glass casserole filled with something questionable to another housewife at the local function to take home, and be blessed you say, and send back to you polished & washed all clean and shiny. It took time to figure out which one of you washes dishes best. Then there is that other ploy known as watching each other’s children. However, don’t be that woman who tries to get lost in the child-pool and everyone’s children are raised and in college before everyone else ever figures out that that quiet, creeping one never watched anyone’s child once, including her own.
On to better things, but as if a moment during the day and work all night long during even her sleeping hours mother of a small orphanage ever let up on her non-scripted, not planned even during her girl childhood hard-fast body workout constant home training program. A ten-billion dollar New York City poetry writing contest pops up, and right away she pictures herself atop a white mooned envelope and headed for enough funds to take care of a dream bigger than the sky. Each entry inspected for the entry fee. “If you don’t pay, you don’t play. The ballots are cast…points added up.” A grand prize winner (her) is declared.
1956 ~ Once upon a time, a small bit of innovative skill fed even a family of twelve. A housewife and coupon clipper, whose imagination and creative outlet did not at first ever imagine twelve kids. Her household and children though, now her steady inspiration, economics soon began to make a fast-play on the family budget. After coupon clipping not so pan a pan out, mom resorts to entering not just she and her spouse, but all of her children’s names on the sweepstakes forms. And as if the brand new washer & dryer are not enough to bring on feelings of…ecstasy – no more washing diapers in a steam-hot pan on the stove make her heart beat double-overtime.
A film about a mother who has a gold-finger for prize-winning & sweepstakes of every sort and kind makes a big splash of it everywhere she enters & everywhere she goes. “Are all of these kids yours?” Asks an estranged style of stranger. But she gets so much meat and other food in the cart at the fill er up and win all the food in the cart (a good cheap pair of experienced tennis-shoes work real good for this one). “Thirty seconds, ma!” Hollers out the older-boy. All the children cheer for her.