Moms

Lollipop

She pulled up in her lollipop pink oversized SUV. One of those soccer moms whose kids are too good to even play soccer. Her curly blonde locks tumbled down her back as she jolted a perfectly shaped leg decorated with a four inch patent stiletto out of her door. She is beautiful, she is confident, she is strong, she is sexy. She is everything I am not: an effortless mom, a classic beauty, a social butterfly.

I pull up behind her in the car riders line at school, my mud stained SUV looking lonely behind her shiny pink beast. My posture is slumped, my body is lumpy, my short uneven hair is matted down against my head from sleeping right after a shower the night before. I am wearing cut off jeans and flip flops as I tumble out of my car to unbuckle my daughter and kiss her on the head while she runs into school. I sigh an enormous sigh of inadequacy that I hope does not rub off on the little human bouncing into those glass double doors.

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