HUMOR
I Was Called a Girl at a Hardware Store
And I wasn’t even crying
“Mommy, where is the chocolate?” My two-year-old asked.
“I don’t think they sell chocolate here,” I replied as I stood dazed and confused in the middle of the hardware store.
“Why?” She asked in a whiny voice.
Because it’s a shithole.
“Because they sell other things,” I said, squeezing her hand and pulling her along another aisle.
“Pretty dresses?” She squealed in excitement.
“No. They sell screwdrivers and tape and overwhelmingly long pieces of wood.”
Which I assume is for jousting bitches.
“I don’t want sewdivers,” she replied.
Same, Kid. Same.
For some reason, I decided it was a good idea to redecorate my daughter’s bedroom by changing the blinds, filling a crack next to the window, painting the walls and trim, and hanging a new light fixture.
Unfortunately, when I made that decision, I forgot I was single. So instead of suggesting “we” redecorate and purposefully being annoying enough to make my husband want to do it by himself, I now have to actually do something.