I work, I really do, and I did, I really did

     I'm pretty sure my first job at 14 (after babysitting from the age of 13, but babysitting didn't bring an official paycheck so maybe doesn't count) was as a counter girl at an A&W fast food place.  Sorry to say, I was fired for giving my best friend a free bag of fries.  Hey, I'm not defending that, I just didn't know, at 14 yrs old  that it was that wrong,  but I learned my lesson about pilfering, that's for sure!  After that I found a job at a gas station just outside a Marine Base that hired young female gas attendants.  Our dress code was what was then known as "hot pants", halter tops, and go go boots.  What a novel concept, sort of like a Hooters only it sold gas instead of hot wings.  That guy was desperate to compete w/the cheaper gas prices on the nearby military base, and he was quite successful, actually. It's a good thing one didn't have to have "hooters" (thank god Hooters hadn't been invented yet) to work there, just nice legs I guess or I would've been out, but that's another story.  That was hard work!  I not only had to put gas in cars and clean windshields, I also had to check oil and put in oil (this involves lifting heavy car hoods and pushing dirty spout things into cans of oil!)  All the while putting up w/the lewd references to letting the horny marines put a "tiger in your tank", etc.  After that I waitressed (apparently that's not a word but I'm making it one), for years I waitressed, all throughout college and even beyond.  It was hard work too!  Then I taught elementary school for awhile, then I worked in a retail store in every capacity imaginable, from parking lot sweeper (I really balked at that one since my husband and I owned the store--I thought I was the Queen, above THAT sort of work; didn't go over too well with my husband who fired me for a day for that one), to bookkeeper, buyer, store display, sales, cleaner, clothing designer, sales rep, and everything else it takes to open and operate stores.  

    Why do I feel I doth protest too much about my job handling abilities and realities??  Because ever since I adopted our second child, I "quit" work to stay home.  That's when it began--the comments about my spoiled bratedness, my spending of my "husband's money", my easy relaxed way of life.  And these comments came from enemies AND friends.  One time while Christmas shopping  I saw a friend at the mall and we commented on the cute things we had gotten for ourselves as well as our kids.  We were wondering how to explain the "selfish" purchases for ourselves and she said, " Well, I tell my kids I work damn hard for the money to buy things for myself, what do you tell yours??"  I'm pretty sure I had nothing to say back to her, and it sure hurt my feelings.  And it still, to this day hurts my feelings.  I've spent 26 years raising "special needs" kids, carting them to countless tutoring appointments, therapy appointments, special schools, groups, doctors.  I've helped them get through schools, all the while cooking, cleaning, and , schmoozing clients of my husbands.  OK, so now we've got money and my kids are grown; I have a housecleaner once a week, but honestly, I still work!  But now it's my own children who tell me I don't work.  It's true that sometimes when they call I'm indeed napping or resting, but my God, I'm exhausted from raising them!  And it's not over yet!!       Yes, I could've been more of a go getter.  I could've been the president of the Dyslexia Society instead of a lowly volunteer once a year for the silent auction, I could've invented something or did something truly "work worthy" and not napped, ever! I've got a high IQ and I coulda woulda shoulda, and I live w/the guilt of that.  But really, I did work and even now, supported by my over achieving, dashingly handsome and indulgent husband who adores me (SORRY ladies, I know that qualifies me for the "spoiled brat" moniker but I still reject it!) I still do work!  I keep a house that is beautiful to look at and more importantly comfortable for people to come to.  I host parties (perhaps often times begrudgingly but I do it!) and I still do lots of laundry and other "chores".  Doesn't anything count for me??  So I nap when I'm tired, that makes me a total lazebag I guess.  Oh well, just saying, just "protesting too much".  So hey, when you see me next time, don't call me a spoiled brat, OK??  And don't even think it! (Even though I did use the word "nap" a little too much)