So I've decided the other day that I must have children. Actually, I decided this a long time ago, but this week made it more evident. I have to have at least three kids -- preferably three, strong boys. Actually, at least two boys. Do you know why? So they can carry my groceries.
There is nothing that screams single woman like lugging groceries out of the car and putting them inside your apartment. The sweat, the huffing and puffing and neighbors who pretend not to see you and don't hold open the door is enough to make me want go through 26 hours of arduous labor three times.
I'd give my sons strong names like Butch, Desiel and Bonebreaker. Butch and Desiel would do the heavy lifting, while Bonebreaker would escort me from the car and into the comfort of my living room, prepared to fight if any of the other neighborhood kids so much as snickered. Butch would unload the groceries, while Desiel would rub my feet and Bonebreaker would bring me a cool glass of lemonade. I guess I'd throw a husband in there.... but I'd have to find him an activity and a name. Hmmm.... Ah, here's one: The husband's name will be Bonebreaker Sr. and he'd cook dinner and do the cleaning. Ah.... what a life!