Ten years ago I married a man following my father dying, being dumped after three years, my mother going crazy on everyone, seeing a therapist. When he said if I cleaned up he would take me with him, I went.
I have two kids now. He told me to stay home and do the mom thing. We got a bigger house out in the boondocks, suburbia. I'm driving a mom car.
I don't want to work. I love being at home, I love my house. I don't mind running the kids around, or school drop off and pickup. I cook now, cause the Mr. wants home cooked meals with the kids. Don't look at me funny in my apron. I stopped wearing teeny tiny bikini panties like forever ago. Mom pants, mom underwear.
I never dreamt that this is the life I'm cut out for. I never did use my degree, except to convince my husband he wasn't marrying a dumbo.
