Mrs M
yoda76WHO AM I? WHO ARE YOU?
June 20th 2011 03:39
Who are you? Who, who? Who, who? I really wanna know. (The Who)
Kevin Lomax: What are you?
John Milton: Oh, I have so many names…
Kevin Lomax: Satan.
John Milton: Call me Dad
(Devil’s Advocate)
Okay, maybe Satan isn’t one of my, or Mr M’s, known identities but we all have multiple identities.
Most blogs you come across, the author will state that they are mother/father, brother/sister, friend etc. We are defined by our titles and our experiences. The party girl, the footy guy, lover, fighter… you get the picture.
Last weekend my two oldest friends and I were reminiscing about the stupid crap we got up to when we were younger. Mr M was listening to us chat away while keeping a watchful eye on our collective children to see if they were listening to our conversations.
There were seven kids in total aged 10 and under. So they probably don’t need to hear how one night I was inebriated when I got home and couldn’t get in the house. Keys and keyholes were a bit tricky. So in my short skirt and high heels I climbed over the garden bed and knocked on my sister’s window pleading with her to open the door for me. Well my sister was annoyed that I woke her so she just pushed open her window and told me to climb in because she wasn’t getting out of bed. So there I was with my bum in the air trying to climb in without breaking a bone.
Read how this story plays out.
Kevin Lomax: What are you?
John Milton: Oh, I have so many names…
Kevin Lomax: Satan.
John Milton: Call me Dad
(Devil’s Advocate)
Okay, maybe Satan isn’t one of my, or Mr M’s, known identities but we all have multiple identities.
Most blogs you come across, the author will state that they are mother/father, brother/sister, friend etc. We are defined by our titles and our experiences. The party girl, the footy guy, lover, fighter… you get the picture.
Last weekend my two oldest friends and I were reminiscing about the stupid crap we got up to when we were younger. Mr M was listening to us chat away while keeping a watchful eye on our collective children to see if they were listening to our conversations.
There were seven kids in total aged 10 and under. So they probably don’t need to hear how one night I was inebriated when I got home and couldn’t get in the house. Keys and keyholes were a bit tricky. So in my short skirt and high heels I climbed over the garden bed and knocked on my sister’s window pleading with her to open the door for me. Well my sister was annoyed that I woke her so she just pushed open her window and told me to climb in because she wasn’t getting out of bed. So there I was with my bum in the air trying to climb in without breaking a bone.
Read how this story plays out.
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