Home Mom Stuff Co-Parenting Two Cans of Paint and a Monkey

Two Cans of Paint and a Monkey

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Being a woman is full of perks. Right? I mean I’ve heard that if you use your womanly spirits you can get tons of stuff for free. Personally when I was younger I used to get into concerts for free and VIP access because I was a professional groupie. Yes read that like the Guttermouth song…

But when I got older and started doing the whole school thing on the regular I became less and less enam ored with having things handed to me. I wasn’t raised like that. But damn it felt good to be a gangsta. Then fast forward to being the bread winner in a family that was slowly decomposing in front of me and started missing those days when boys used melt for the Big Browns. Truthfully, I felt a sense of loss over the lack of being able to get the basic things that I needed from the man in my life.

Today it’s like a bizarre mix.

The Monkey and I went to Lowe’s today to pick up the paint for his room. He’s decided he wants to do his room in his favorite colors green and yellow…PACKERS CHAMPS BABY!!! Okay, it’s not my fault that those are his favorite colors…okay maybe a little bit but whatever. I digress. As we were picking out paint two different men commented on the better paint types. Umm, okay. I’m on a budget kids. Mama can’t get the $40/can paint. Serious. Then as we picked out our floor covering crap three guys mentioned that they would get canvas for the floors cause it’s easier to walk on. Duh and so forth. There were a couple more chaps who decided there input was going to be life changing to me. Now had these men been just trying to help and not cruising the paint aisle I wouldn’t have had much to say about it. The worst and most annoying was the man who offered to help me with something heavy and thought by saying, “shame your boyfriend didn’t come help you”. Really? That’s a fracking line? Was that supposed to make me weak in the knees and fall over swooning? ‘Cause I need my boyfriend to be able to get two cans of paint?

The men of the home improvement world, who all seem to be strolling the aisles with nothing to do, seemed to be just looking to scam a date from a woman with a kid and no ring on her finger. Had I been with my Mom would the same have happened? I’m gonna venture no. Had I showed up dressed in sweats and a ballcap would anyone have even bothered to speak to me who wasn’t an employee? I’m gonna say nope again on that one. Ages and ages ago this is the kind of shit that I would have giggled about on the surface and internally would’ve had the wicked laugh of triumph. Today it just doesn’t cut it for me. I’m a woman who has had to pick herself up and make shit happen from the time I was twenty-five on and I’ve learned a thing or two about home improvement and home winging it. While I’m cute and adorable and may looked Doe-Eyed at times I’m a chick who can fix shit.

A few weeks ago, the Guy and I went to the Playboy Jazz Festival and I was freezing my ass off as the late afternoon turned into evening, and while he offered me his jacket I wouldn’t give. And later on that night it seemed lame in my head that I wouldn’t let him give me his jacket. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, no? What I have struggled with since the Bio is finding the happy medium between depending on a man for certain things and just out-in-out letting a man take care of everything for no good reason other than to make him feel like he has done something manly. Since becoming a single Mama I’ve found that the ball is always in my court. I’ve always dated men who are incapable of being in charge of anything, let alone maintaining a relationship with a woman who can handle her own shit and still admit she’s a work in progress.

This ridiculousness at the store today made me think of how many changes I have already started making in my life this year and it’s already half over. I’ve started saying, yes to doing things I wouldn’t ever do. I’ve met people I thought wouldn’t ever fit here. I’ve started taking chances on me. I’ve moved out of my head space and into the open.

I still trip and fall. But the last thing I need is a man from the home improvement store picking me up and carrying me to safety. All I need is a helping hand back to my feet and someone to walk next to me on the road less traveled.

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