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"Even in a schedule as tight as Don's, there's always a loophole of spare time for a fisherman who's ardent enough."
A glimpse into a house warmed by affection . . . for the people who live
WHEN I was younger, and before I had even met Don McNeill, I pictured the life-of-the-wife of a motion picture or radio star as more or less a constant stream of parties and "evenings out" — meeting people, dancing, and sleeping late in the morning. Perhaps some star-wives do live on such a merry-go-round. But it isn't for me ... I like a simple life.
For with our early-rising schedule, night life just can't be for us. I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times we've been night-clubbing. Perhaps four or five times a year we see a movie, and that's about all. You see, my life with your Breakfast Club toastmaster revolves completely around our home and family. I know that some wives feel differently about "going places and doing things." But I feel that the love and enjoyment I find in my family, and the values I know^ in Don, far outweigh any program of getting out and going "places."
There are two questions which people ask me about Don before any others. One is "How do you get him up in the morning?" The second is, "What kind of a man is he to live with?" The former is by far the easiest to answ^er, so I'll take that first.
Don arises at 5:45 every morning — and not by himself! It takes the combined efforts of two alarm clocks, our three boys — Donnie, Bobby and Tommy — and me. If Don is particularly reluctant, I threaten hin» with a pitcher of water. Then, while Don shaves, I get breakfast. Bobby talks to Don w^hile his dad uses the razor, telling him how to run the program that day, and appears at the breakfast table well sprinkled with shaving lotion and with a bit of lather clinging to his ears.
Breakfast is on a seventeen-minute schedule, covering cereal, coffee and eggs — with whatever else might be convenient. Our job is to "prime" the B. C. toastmaster — Donnie pops up with a "ncAv" story he's heard
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