Miss Wyttrache

It’s almost noon and I hear the kids fighting. I grab a warm Diet Coke from the TV tray beside the bed, light a smoke and get up to see what’s going on. I can hear the twins crying in their crib. Deshawn is nearly 5 and Maria is 3 and they’re fighting over a bag of Cheetos.


“Shut up,” I tell them, “Mommy’s was up late last night.”


I was talking to this guy on the computer until way late. The only time I have to myself is when the kids go to bed. Otherwise I have to bribe my mom with smokes to babysit. She should be lucky I even let her see them.


“I had the Cheetos and Maria keeps wanting some and I’m hungry. Will you make breakfast?” Deshawn whines. I swear. He KNOWS how to make toast and cereal but he’s so lazy.


I take the Cheetos away and tell them to watch TV. I change the twins and see that I have to add diapers to the grocery list. I’d better get ready if I want to be home before my show’s on. I tell the kids to get their coats on.  


I don’t feel like washing my hair so I pull it up into a tight ponytail. I’m just gonna wear my pajama bottoms and my tee-shirt. I slide on my slippers, “Goddamn it! I told you guys to get your coats on.”


They never listen.


I haven’t done laundry and I can’t even find dirty socks for the twins because the fucking cat has shit on the clothes pile again. I’m in a crappy mood. They’ll just have to go sockless.


I grab my wallet. I hope I have cash because I need smokes. Plus I don’t have much left on my food stamps. How do they expect a single mother to raise 4 kids on what they give me? It’s not MY fault they were born. They were accidents. (Well, I did get pregnant with Deshawn because I thought it would make Terrance stay around) I’m not one of those chicks that has a bunch of kids with different guys. Deshawn and Maria have different daddy’s but the twins have the same father.


“PUT THAT DOWN!” I yell because one of the twins has taken an old piece of gum out of the ashtray and was getting to put it in his mouth. “NO!” I say as I spank him on the butt. He starts crying and Maria is bugging me that she can’t find her coat.  ARGGGGGH!


I finally get everyone rounded up, grab my cell phone and keys, and we get into the car. I light a smoke. That’s the one little pleasure I get. Even though it’s cold I crack the window because I try to cut down on the amount of smoke I blow around the kids.



To Be Continued…..

Uploaded 11/14/2008
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