Woe is Me

I would have posted a Pulitzer prize winning piece earlier in the day, but my laptop sucks. The battery lasts as long as my first boyfriend. (I’m kidding Mom) My 12-year-old son’s computer is nicer than mine. My 5-year-old has a newer Ipod. (Mine has a dial) My 2-year-old has more expensive clothes. I sacrifice so they don’t have to. Actually, I thought about making all three work for Kathie Lee Gifford, but those damn child labor laws are a bitch. (I’m kidding. Don’t email me.) My kids don’t even know how to spell the word work. I asked my oldest to make his bed and he looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language.

I rarely splurge on me. Hell, I hate buying myself anything. Just today I was in Tar-jhay when I spotted a cute bracelet on clearance for $9.99. I threw it in my cart, took a few steps and felt a pang in my stomach. Guilt. I didn’t need that bracelet. My son needs new sneakers. My daughter has outgrown everything. I really shouldn’t waste ten bucks. I gently set the bracelet back on the counter. At that moment a woman strolled by wearing the same one. The child in her cart had tattered sneakers and a stained shirt. Lucky Bitch. She must be an aunt.

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