Sooooo, we have all been around those women who live for competition, right? I'm not talking about Foosball/Pictionary/Taboo/Poker type competition (because I love you people). No, I am referring to the women who compete "at life".
|Oh darling, just leave that for the maid.|
|Oh honey, I am the maid at my house. Just look at the treasures|
that my husband leaves for me on the counters.
You know, because to put them in the trash can he would
have had to turn around and step on the pedal.
Let me tell you something. I have no desire to be around people who compete at life. I don't need judgement when I slip into my small town vernacular and tell my kids to go "wash up", and I don't need to hear about how effing perfect your life is. Why? Not because I am jealous (okay, if you have a nanny I'm a little jealous). Because I don't believe you. No one has a perfect life. NO ONE. We all get (intensely) irritated by our spouses. We all have moments where we consider selling our children. We all wonder about their intelligence when they spend a week pretending to be a dog, picking their nose or talking about poop. We all get broccoli stuck in our teeth. WE ALL FART. So, ladies, let's do each other a giant favor and stop the betrayal. If you are constantly selling how great your life is, you leave me to assume these sorts of things about you: your children barely know you, you read trashy novels concealed by National Geographic, you and your husband hardly touch (because he is probably screwing his secretary), your "friends" are shallow back stabbing bitches and you cry when you look at your postpartum, deformed body in the mirror. Be real with me ladies. We owe it to each other.
|If I am giving you this look- shut the hell up.|
Oh, and if anyone wonders why I avoid playdates, this is it. Plus I hate stuffing Thing 2 into the teeny teeny weeny backseat of my 12 year old pick-up truck. I'm too fucking tired to compete with anyone, or pretend that I care when they compete with me. A butler, you say? Congratulations. You win. Come on kids, wash up! We're going home.