Bitter Ass Bitch

She was the friend that I’d never expected to ask me this fucking vanilla question.

“Mel, when are you gonna have kids? You would make such a great mom.”

Misery likes company eh? A thought.  A quick thought.  A long thought.   I almost had the nerve to ask, “So when are you gonna get a divorce?”

I didn’t.  I feel like it’s just as inappropriate to ask a lady when she’s going to bear children as it is to when she’s going to leave her lame ass husband or smack her whiny ass kid.

To be truthful.  I don’t support smacking your children, but I guess as annoyed and anxious as you are about me having a child, I’m equally as ready for you to shut your kid up.

I get it. Both ridiculous. Both uncalled for.

But seriously, can you get your kid to shut the fuck up?

I’m trying to have a conversation with my once vibrant ass friend.

Is this just age?  You watch your once colorful friends fold into a bland ass manila envelope.

I’ll do without.  Khaki always looked like shit on me.