I Am A Warrior

I am a woman. A female. I am not a lady. I am not a princess. I swear. A lot. I drink alcohol. I find humor in things that are probably not supposed to be funny. I am sarcastic. And a bit sadistic. I have been through things in life that most people haven’t. Probably. I am a wife. A Domestic Engineer. I cook, I clean, and I do dishes, vacuum, laundry, dust. I step on Hot Wheels at three times a day. Yes, I am a mother. Of boys. I am not afraid of boogers, blood, burps, bugs, or farts. I sit down on the toilet first thing in the morning, and there is pee on the seat. And now on my butt. I sigh. Boys. I don’t care about makeup and jewelry too much. I could care less if my shoes don’t match my bag. If I can run a brush through my hair and put on clean underwear, I am good to go. I’ve lost a son. I’ve lost a father. I’ve got plenty of battle wounds, on the inside and the out. I have bear-crawled through the mud of life. I Am A Warrior.