Repressed

Look who the postman brought to our front door today. Hello, Kitty and Chococat!

“Why?” you might ask. Honestly, because I can’t help myself.

For 19 years I’ve been raising boys.

Buying boy clothes. Boy toys. Boy sports equipment. Boy haircuts.

And the other kids in my family?

Oh, please. More boys. I can’t even live vicariously through my siblings’ kids.

Buried (not so) deep inside me, there’s a mother of girls that has yet to fully rear her frilly head.

And I will be indulging her with Hello Kitty until (if ever) granddaughters enter the picture.

So I foresee many purchases like these in my future.

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