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I’m Just A Mama, Raising Rouge Rebels
“Mama, I just killed a man. Put my cart against his and, ran him over now he’s dead.” He’ll be okay, though. I only killed him A little. Inside. His masculinity I mean. How dare I not move when he was in my way? I mean come on, haven’t I learned, by now, to be completely passive and submissive? How could I have the audacity to take up Too much space? I’m a little dense when it comes to the etiquette of oppression, so I guess I’ll just ask to be excused for being bold enough to believe that men don’t own every walkway. Especially not in the grocery store. That’s our domain!…
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The 10 Things That Will Likely Keep Me From Winning “Mother of the Year”
I know I can’t be the only one who practices accepting an award. I’m very gracious, and my speeches always include a big “Thank you to my fans!” I never forget get choked up, waiving my hand in front of my eyes to hold back the tears. I’ve won Grammy’s and Oscars. I’ve even won a Tony. I’ve tried practicing my speech for winning Mother of the Year too but, somehow, in my imagination I never quite make it to the podium. I can’t say I’m surprised, though. There are 10 very distinct reasons I will likely lose the award before I ever have a chance to hold the golden pacifier,…
