Life is Sticky. Life is Sweet.

Life is Sticky. Life is Sweet.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Would You Check That????

Another Facebook note too good to pass up. This is by my "sister" Tina about being a strong single mom, whether she wants to or not.
Better start blogging, girls. I'm on a mission.
So, I am left to ponder past experiences in my life and I have come up with a revelation:

Men are scaredy cats.

I remember a night (no particular night specifically) when I heard a loud noise downstairs. I said, "Hey did you hear that?" I got the "Mmmm-hmmm." response. So, as I mutter under my breath about the ladies who asked for equal rights, I go to check it out. I think our forewomen should've been more specific when asking for equal rights: like asking for equal pay for jobs. I don't think they had intentions of us cutting the grass, changing our own oil and tires, pumping our own gas, unclogging toilets, and any other job I want a man to do for me. I have a tail light out; my first thought is "Daddy Dearest." I don't mind the fact that I have to do these things as a single mom, I just think that very nice men friends should say, "Oh, how about I help with that?" (HINT HINT)

All of these little nights of being "The Man of the House" left me stronger for my life as a single mom. I have to do mommy duties and daddy duties and if that means being a bad ass at 3 am checking out noises, I will.

Come to the present day.

The other night, I was just starting to fully sleep. My insomnia has me up late most nights. This night, my tired butt was ready to fully knock out when my pit bull, Ruby, let out the most fierce barks I have ever heard. She ran to my windows looking into my yard, letting out these warnings. Truthfully, I was pretty scared. I know someone was out there. Yet, there I was, with my phone in hand to call for backup, checking out the noise. I look at the phone and think, "Shit. Do I need a man to save me? Hell no!" I exchange the phone for a butcher knife. So, note to any friend who thinks they want to surprise me at night: I come wielding knives. Big ones.

I don't know if it was my pounding heart or the barking that scared the noise away. Maybe it was the wind. But I again was the brave one checking it out (Brave = Me + one bad ass pit bull). As I crawled my butt back into bed, I was full of thanks. And here was my quote of thanks:

"Thank you God for putting pussy-ass men in my life to make me stronger. I appreciate you're thinking ahead for me."


  1. Thats the one you chose? Shit you couldnt have used the 3 men knocking on the door??? LOL maybe I should blog about how I just spent the last hour in tears cause I moved my kids room around and l literally moved the TV 12 feet and now have a screen of snow...and for once I am wondering where are all the menfolk who are supposed to save this bitter damsel from insanity? Apparently they are all gay or married....maybe I should trying running down the street again in a babytee and undies and see if that gets me some help...

  2. Are you kidding me?? This one is great! I laughed my ass off.

  3. Right on! You gotta do what you gotta do hey? I have one of my old chef's knives (8 inches) in my bedroom for just such occasions - stored high enough that my little monkey boy can't get at it, of course!


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