My Mother and Bob had a good marriage in the mid 1950s. Even though Bob was frequently gone, they were happy together, although my Mother was definitely the boss. Bob referred to himself as "Poor ole Dad" most of the time, and always jokingly said: "Yes, dear", to my Mom whenever she asked for anything. My Mom was fiercely independent and no one could tell her what to do unless she wanted to do it. After marrying Bob, she never had to work again but did help when Patty's Mom asked her to come and help her with her brothers business. My Mother smoked cigarettes, but only in the late afternoon and evenings. Patty's Mom was shocked when my Mom lit up a cigarette.
My Mom couldn't drive, so Bob took her wherever she needed to go. When Bob was gone overseas, my Mom would go shopping with Patty's mom. My Mother was a good homemaker, she could sew and cook, although she never thought she was a very good cook. Bob only liked hamburger, so everything she cooked contained ground beef. I grew to despise the stuff. As a housekeeper, my Mother bordered on fanatical. Her house had to be spotless and we were never allowed to eat anything unless we sat at the table. Anything sticky was only eaten outside and then we had to be washed before we were allowed back into the house.
My Mom and Bob didn't normally drink alcohol but I can remember a few times in their younger days when they were feeling very good. One time when my Uncle Tim and Aunt Avis came over, my Mom and my Aunt Avis were feeling so good that they tap danced down the street to see Patty's Mom. Another time, Bob was drinking alcohol at the beach and became very sunburn. Both Bob and my Mom quit drinking after these incidents.
My Mom had that English reserved personality, not at all demonstrative, but we knew she loved us. Bob was a teaser. If he teased you, he liked you. It was a happy home.