An August 2012 post for Re-Blog-A-Thog Monday….don’t worry – more content coming soon… just not as soon as I thought…
I feel for my mother. She desperately wanted a girl. She got me instead. Not to say I’m not feminine; I wear skirts, I wore makeup, I procreated. But I suspect I wasn’t the kind of girl she really wanted.
She wanted this girl:
She got this one instead:
During high school, I remember her asking me why I didn’t want to be a cheerleader; why didn’t I want to wear Guess jeans instead of black skirts from Goodwill? Why didn’t I wear ‘nice make-up’? Why didn’t I wear lipstick? Why didn’t I paint my nails? How did I expect to get a husband with tattoos and a nose ring? Why? Why? Why?
I don’t know. But I did manage to snag a husband who hates cheerleading, makeup, designer clothing, painted nails and girly shoes.
However, I think I’m missing some basic “girl” genetics. I hate most clothes and most…
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