Right. I adjusted smile on my face and then knocked on Janine’s door.

“Welcome to my humble house,” she opened the door before I even managed to repeat my knock. She had to be waiting for her guest.

“Hi,” I said as sweetly as it was physically possible without dying of diabetes. Make an effort, Rob said. And so I did. I handed her box of cookies.

“What’s that?” She asked surprised. Did I do something wrong?

“I brought something,” I smiled again. My face was about to start to cramp.

“Oh, you didn’t need to,” she replied but I knew she was scanning what was inside of the box. She opened it, clearly impressed by my cookies.

“Lovely. That’s so great. You know Millie is coming today? Have you met her? You will have so much in common with her,” she kept chatting as she led me inside. I partially zoned out, greeting all the girls around. I knew some from the local shop, some from the times when I was simply walking through the neighborhood.

“Everyone, this is Marnie,” Janine introduced me to the crowd. “Marnie is new here and she is still settling in.” And the crowd nodded. Of course, they knew me.

“Marnie is a professional housewife,” she added. Better than unemployed I thought. They were all professional. Professional wives, housewives, mothers and some I suspected mistresses. It was all professional there. I wondered where the unprofessional ones met.

But before I had a chance to think about it, or how my house looked totally unprofessional, inhabited by one employed and one unemployed person, Janine introduced Millie.

“But now, it’s time for Millie. Millie is an entrepreneur and today, she will share some exciting news with us.”

Millie, obviously waiting for her cue, stood up to face us all. She was more than professional, she was an entrepreneur.

“Ladies, thanks for having me here,” she started. Wasn’t she regular or something?

“Today, let’s talk about rolling pins.” What?

Millie just waited for everyone to start to pay attention to her before she continued… Something about different rolling pins. Different materials? Is there seriously a discussion going on about the diameter? The colour? The ergonomy of the handles?

“Marnie, would you like to add anything?” Janine woke me up from my reverie.

“Me?” Maybe I overheard…

“Of course, your cookies are delicious, you must have an opinion. What rolling pin do you use?” She insisted. Damn cookies. I just bought them frozen. Of course, they would not know. They would never be seen in that shop with ready meals. It was a safe bet.

“Oh, of course…. Rolling pin. You know, it is such personal question,” I started… and it worked. “It is of course about everyone’s preferences,” I continued. Diversity is always in. They waited.

“I just use the one I got from my mother,” I finally admitted. Well, it was a truth, sort of. I had one.

The room smiled. The conversation flowed. It was actually fun once we got to the cookies. Maybe Millie is an entrepreneur, not just a housewife who goes around selling cooking utensils as if they were key to a happy life. Or… you know, no one really cares. I admit, it was fun, once you joined in.

“So, how was it?” Rob asked me at home.

“Actually…. fun. Next time we might even talk about roasting turkey.” I answered. When he didn’t respond straight away, I added: “I just need to stop again in that shop.”