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.
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