Never a Girly Girl

I was never a girly-girl. I am not a sorting, throwing away, cleaning girl. I am definitely not a wash-the-dishes or wash-the-clothes girl. I am more of a fill-up-your-spaces with junk girl. Buckets of junk, baskets of junk, junk to Put junk in, junk to sit on top of other junk. I love thrift stores, garage sales, and flea markets. Antique malls in town have my credit card number On file in case I lose it again. Being prissy is not for me. Neither is being a girl; I’m a wild woman. Definitely a SEASONED woman. Confined in the heart and mind Of a 9-year-old boy. The boy side of me laughs Silently at the prissy people who Sort and purge and clean. What sillies! Wasting their time on something that keeps need re-doing,re-doing,re-doing. My children can sort my junk after I’m gone. Or the grandchildren can.