Preferably circa 1950.
Not one of these rubbish modern ones that want to swan about having jobs and drinking wine and having a social life.
Seriously my house is a wreck, my children are semi feral and all I want to come home to is considering what to watch next on Netflix while stuffing creme eggs in my mouth and incubating the next monster to join the menagerie.
It can't just be me that wants one surely?