I don't know who coined the phrase "non-working mother," but whoever it was didn't know my mother. He didn't see
her soak her tired and aching feet after a whole day of walking alongside the junior high band in the Thanksgiving parade.
He was never there to see her collapsed in the old recliner after
mowing, raking, edging, and cleaning up the entire yard by herself in
the August heat because Dad had to go to the office. He didn't see her doze off in front of the television because
she was so worn out from a day of spring cleaning. He wasn't there to help when the house had to be repainted
or rooms had to be re-wallpapered. And he evidently never watched
her pack and unpack, load and unload the entire household when we moved.
Most folks couldn't survive such a leisurely, non-working life of
luxury, I think.