Member-only story
Help! There’s A Peanut In My Ear!
By Pamela Jane
It was 1971, the height of the women’s movement, and everything
that was wrong with our marriage, we saw in political terms.
We aren’t getting along.
Translation: Marriage is a repressive institution.
I’m furious with David for criticizing my writing.
Translation: Men are pigs.
All this was a strain on our marriage. I decided to go to Brooklyn to stay with our friends, George and Betsy. There I would get liberated from male patriarchies and sexual stereotypes.
But sleep eluded me in their small apartment. I missed our country house and the sound of the stream flowing through the pines. Panic escalated as I lay awake listening to sirens wail, and wondering what was to become of my marriage and the rest of my life. Desperate for peace, I went looking for something to plug up my ears. All I could find was a jar of dry-roasted peanuts in the kitchen.
This will work, I thought, popping a peanut into my ear. Unexpectedly, the peanut broke in two, and half of it slipped down inside my ear. When I tried to dig it out, it went in even deeper.
I knocked timidly on George and Betsy’s bedroom door.
