Most of my Mom’s family thinks I was handed life on a silver platter. Like they literally think that I STILL receive whatever I want. As in I received whatever I want growing up, and how I receive it now…. HA! Wait, I have one confession. ONE.
So my Dad is addicted to Chapstick. Like, take it away from him and he.can’t.think. He can’t even function. This is survival. I’m certain if you asked my Dad what he would take with him if he were stranded on an island…he’d take Chaptstick. First wish from a Genie? Forget world peace. Unlimited Original Chapstick delivered to my pocket please. I’m certain that if his last tube melted in the hot Texas sun, he would pull a Macgyver stunt and scrape it off. Dust? Chunks? Doesn’t matter. So, as a girl if we went to the store, by ourselves, Dad would buy me chapstick. He’d say, “need anything?” “Yah Dad, Chapstick.” He wouldn’t even question it, and he KNEW where the chapstick was. I’d pick something fruity, like Melon Burst, and he’d tease me. I did this EVERY time. I came to this marriage of mine with a drawer full. A DRAWER full. It took this seven years to finish and I had to actually buy my own. So yes, Chapstick was handed to me on a silver platter.
My sister and I worked hard. Don’t think for a minute that if my sister and I had chosen to drink, party and have babies before marriage that there wouldn’t have been consequences. There would have been. And they would have been swift. And painful. If I asked for something that cost, a lot, they would laugh. We laugh a lot.