In short, Mrs. Cleaver was full of shit. She was probably in the kitchen popping Prozac while cleaning up after the Sunday roast she so meticulously prepared as a result of her raging OCD. Just take a look at Bree Van de Kamp - unraveling at the seams of her panties, but her pearls have never hung more perfectly.
We are all a little messed up in our own special idiosyncratic ways. It's just a measure of how much of ourselves we admit to others and expose our vulnerabilities. That's what Twitter is for, right?
Anyways, here is what I think these women were REALLY thinking...
"I've been married 3 times and still never had an orgasm; this is why I drink."
"That shower is way better than him. Every time."
"I'm going to stick my head in the oven tonight. I mean, say 'Cheese!'"
"I hate vacuuming, like, seriously fucking hate it, motherfucker."
"I just gave him a blow job, not because I liked it, but because I'm bored."
"I'm so fucking horny that even this cactus is turning me on."
And I guess I shouldn't leave out this guy either:
"Sex with my wife makes me ill. I try to imagine she's Ben from next door."
And now I have the urge to watch gay porn and eat ice cream...