Ninapintasantamaria's Blog











{January 20, 2009}   Housework

I’m really meant to be a rich woman.  On the news every night showing people my clean shaven (Waxed?  Yeah, they probably have a personal waxer.) tootie.  I’m meant to have a maid, a cook, and a dog-walker that follow me to the Mediterranean, Japan, and England, and wherever the hell else I feel like jumping on my leer jet and going.  I most emphatically am not meant to be hanging my husband’s uniforms and mopping floors, and picking up dog s___ because my dogs don’t understand this is their house and you don’t s___ where you eat.  I swear, it’s only in their room.  They don’t come in the rest of the house.  And I clean every week.  I swear!  Y’all don’t have to be afraid to come over, or anything.  We’re not those people.*sighs*  I JUST DON’T WANNAAAA!  There, did that give you an overview of my feelings about housework?  Let me know if you need a more elaborate display.  I can give it.  Oh yeah.  Uh-huh.  I can.  I would rent out that island on the travel channel the other night.  The one where they bring you drinks on the dock as you disembark, and fish for your meal personally?  You had to have seen it.  When I hit the lottery, I’m there.  Paris Hilton, ready or not, here I come!  Not that I would actually eat the fishy things, of course.  I haven’t touched so much as a fish stick since I was approximately 6.  That was waaaay before I started to try to procreate, so I’m ahead of the game, see?  Of course, if I were rich, I could just go and buy babies like that one “Hollywood couple who shall remain nameless.”  They wouldn’t actually admit to it, or anything, but that’s essentially what they’re doing.  I hate being po’ folks.  Well, I don’t really hate it, as I was raised with some values and morals, but it can be inconvenient when you have Dom Peringnon taste and a kool-aid budget like I’ve been blessed with.  My husband does keep me in the lifestyle to which I’ve become accustomed and all, but it’s just that I’ve had to become accustomed to southern-fried suburban.  Although, I suppose it is 1 step above deep-fried trailer park, so I guess I oughtta hush!

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