Sometimes, as a member of the female persuasion, I am ashamed. As a person with a vagina, I should do better!
I only own 4 pairs of shoes (two of which are flip flops), I don’t EVER wear dresses unless the dress code at an event makes it mandatory. I bite my nails. I belch louder than ANY man I know.
I am not polite, or courteous, and most of the time I am not sweet or girly. I hate getting flowers (and not just because i’m allergic) and if you buy me jewelery, I will not appreciate it. I can’t even remember the last time I changed my earrings.
I love makeup, but I only ever buy what I need. The last time I dressed up, I still wore jeans, and it was for a “celebrity” who didn’t even end up liking me.
Yes, a sorry excuse for a woman, I am! Although some may just consider me a “cheap date.”
My most shameful indiscretion, though, is my purse. I have ONE (not including the hideous ones taking up space in my closet from years and years ago because occasionally I border on hoarder status)- and I didn’t even buy it myself. My brother bought it for me… 4 years ago… and I absolutely loathe it.
My singular purse has been through more than one purse should ever go through. Milk and other liquids spilled into it, plopped into puddles, and i’m sure enough kid snot wiped on it to be considered a bio-hazard.
And right now, it is so full of crap that finding anything in it is nearly impossible. When finding chapstick takes 10 minutes, you KNOW something is wrong. The thing isn’t even that deep, but when I stick my hand into it, I feel like I could dig downward forever. One day I fully expect to pull out a fossilized breath mint- it’s just that bad. I’ve already found more things that I can count that I DO not recognize… and that scares me.
I should have my boob card revoked.
I know it’s easy enough to just dump the stupid thing and clean it out, especially since i’m writing about it right now and my hatred for it is at its all time highest amount- but let’s face it, after a day of dealing with whiny kids who missed their naps, a baby birthday party where Holden acted like he was a crackhead and ran in circles the entire time, and attempting to find a pair of blue pants for Holden for his Halloween costume since the ones (so nicely) made for him don’t fit and I have NO clue how to work a sewing machine- I am too exhausted to deal with the cesspool my purse has become.
Maybe one day when I have more patience… hopefully before it comes to life and attacks me.
Want to take a moment to say that today would have been my Mom’s 53rd birthday. Hard to believe she’s been gone for 8 years. Happy birthday Mom!
I'm either "I HAVE 3 FRIES LEFT DON'T TOUCH MY PLATE!" or "Please take this so I can't eat any more of it!" There is no in-between.
Dear people writing articles on ways to get siblings to get along, I'll save you the time. The answer is "Don't let them play together"
Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.