Monday, March 1, 2010

This is not how I actually feel.

Dear Rosie,

I am blaming my dirty bathrooms, unfolded laundry, and microwaveable dinner on you, just so you know. My visiting teaching got done yesterday. Remember how that was the last day of the month? Your fault. And when summer comes, I will blame my weed-filled garden on you, too. In case you were wondering, the Lupster hasn't been to the dog park in ages and my car needs to be vacuumed. But, you see, I don't have time to do it because I'm out breaking glass ceilings and liberating housewives and whatnot. I just thought you should know that I did not choose the outfit that my baby wore today. Did you hear that? Someone else did. I hope you're happy.

But still, way to go on those biceps.


A (gratefully) well-educated, (grudgingly) working mother.

1 comment:

Liv said...

I remember a parent-teacher conference in elementary school in which my teacher told my mom she expected me to break through that darn glass ceiling.

You know what? I'd rather stay at home cleaning the glass ceiling and caring for my baby than breaking through it.