Here I go again wondering what kind of mama I'll be, assuming I have children. And assuming I don’t, may I have one of yours? Cause I really wanna be a mama. Anyways back to rambling. I’ve observed many a mama and I wonder what kind I’ll be.
The au naturel green mama with a heavy side of germ-aphobe? Doubtful, I’m a bad recycler, clutter gets to me, the trash can is my friend. As are the microwave and preservatives. Don’t tell Al, he'd go all gory on me. And a life without high fructose corn syrup would just be depressing.
Then there’s the ubberly, cool, fun mother, who not only can tolerate the messiest of the messy,she helps make um. Small chance, I’m too anal; I thrive on the neat and tidy. Help! I'll be a terrible mother! Nah, we’ll just have to adopt an organized chaos approach to messes.
Would I be like the Bev’s mom and make homemade biscuits in my pearls? Probably not, I’d hate to put Pillsbury out of business, that boy can make some pretty decent dough. Maybe I'll resemble Ma Wilder and pull a needle and thread? Dubious at best, when I get lost at Target and wind up in baby land my belly cries forth in desperation. Who wouldn’t want a little tarjay dressed tyke?
I’m not seriously naïve enough to think mothers can truly be classified. They’re each one of kind, even if they hover under certain stereotypical umbrellas.
I’ll most likely be the unpredictable smorgasbord of a mama. With a little of this and a dash of that, Like I’d probably feed my kids red # 40 with a little high fructose corn syrup and organic vegetables. One thing I will do is educate my children on the horrors of bleach. If they come within forty feet of it, I will teach them to yell, “Bleach is the child of Satan and he ruined my mama’s favorite britches!” That’s really all I wanted to tell you, Bleach bad, babies good.
P.S. I wanna baby, did I mention that? And that I will read them books and hug them a lot?
P.P.S. I love my mama, she’s great
P.P.P.S. I have a problem with P.S. I feel they are essential to all posts.