The Mommy Contract

2 Apr

I cannot believe I entered into Motherhood without a contract. What the hell was I thinking? I am essentially an indentured servant to 3 miniature tyrants for the rest of my life. I get no sick days, no salary, no 401k, and no worker’s comp if I’m injured on the job. I’m not even guaranteed fresh air, a hot meal or a shower on a daily basis. Even in prison I’m pretty sure that three square meals and some kind of free outdoor time are guaranteed rights. There should be a Mommy contract – this is mine:

1. I am allowed to talk to an adult for longer than 10 minutes about something other than sippy cups and diapers at least once every 48 hours,

2. I get a manicure and pedicure before the point at which my toes start to hurt and my cuticles are peeling and/or bleeding,

3. I get to sleep at least 6 uninterrupted hours twice a week,

4. I get to eat a lunch consisting of something other than what’s left on the high chair tray,

5. I get to eat a dinner consisting of something other than what’s left on the high chair tray,

6. I reserve the right to kick or slap anyone who gives me or my children dirty looks for being too noisy in a public place,

7. I get to go to the movie theater at least once every three months, and

8. I am guaranteed a hot shower at least once every 24 hours. Twice, if I’ve been vomited on.

What would your Mommy contract say?

*To leave me a comment just click the icon at the top right of this post, then scroll to the comments section and type away.

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