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Sweetie, hold mommy’s crack pipe while I stir this meth-pot, please?

I haven’t been blogging much lately.

Correction: I’ve been blogging, I haven’t been posting them lately.  I am aware that the ramblings in my head are often not socially acceptable.  I’ve been struggling with my social identity lately.  Is it a choice?  Was I born this way?  Is it a sin?  Will my soul be saved?  What would Jesus do? What would Harry Potter do?

My conclusion?  I was born this way.  My brain isn’t socially acceptable and neither am I.  I’m still saved, Jesus would be too busy to read my blog, and Harry Potter probably doesn’t like American muggles anyway… So here goes:

Last night was our school’s talent show.  Both of my kids performed.  THEY WERE FABULOUS! **bow, bow**  **proud beaming smile**

But, the show ran late into the evening, and being sick with nerves before the show, my sweet 6 year old Girl Child had nothing to eat but some M&M’s and half an orange pop (okay, after this confession, I’m clearly not saved.) Hence, at 9:00pm she was in tears, hungry, and inconsolably crying for food not in my pantry.  My men-folk were settled in for an evening of Madden on the Wii, so the girl-child and I headed for a close restaurant for some grub.

By the time we were seated and ordering it was late, but we were giggly and enjoying our date.  Then, I overheard from a nearby table, “Such a little girl” and then, “Wow, It’s so late at night.”  And I realized: I’M A BAD MOM!  Wow, and little do they know the sugar my child consumed in the last few hours… Then I realized: SCREW THEM!  I’m a lot of things, but a bad mom isn’t one of them.  Weird? Unconventional?  Yes, and yes, but bad? Nu-uh!

So I say loudly, “Hurry and eat honey, my shift at The Hustler Gentlemen’s Club starts at ten.  I don’t want you hungry while sitting in the van waiting.  I don’t get off until 2:00!”    And then those judgers gasped, clutched their chests, and turned shades of red… or at least they would have if I said it outloud instead of only in my head.

Instead I asked the waitress, “Do you carry any Trueblood B positive?  My daughter and I just emerged from our coffins for the night and are trying to refrain from draining your other patrons right now!”   And that would have been awesome, but since there was little chance that these lame-o people watched Trueblood, or any vampire dramas, I didn’t let those words come out either.

What I did let out was a loud, “You were beautiful and brave on stage tonight honey!  I’m so proud of you, especially for such a late, long night for a little girl!”  And as if on cue, another family from the talent show walked in and we all greeted and congratulated each other.

So, in the end, I guess I’m not really ready to demolish the filter between my brain and mouth, but it will happen one day, and if you aren’t there to witness it, I’ll be sure to post about it.

And, the good food worked, she slept right through my shift at The Hustler that night… **good mom pat on the back**

~~Delaney Rhea

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