The Bad Mom

You take a hipster who crafts some funky handbag made out of bicycle tires you get a Craftster. I try to avoid the hipster scene because well, I’m not hip enough I guess. Truth is I am hip, I just don’t have to try so hard. A Craftster I may tolerate because I like to craft and now that I’m sitting at home on Saturday nights I’ve started making baby clothes.

I had heard the Craftsters were holding a bazaar in the park near my dorm so I emailed the head Craftster and asked if I could set up a booth. After not receiving a reply I decided in true D.I.Y form I would just set up my own booth which was just a clothes line tied between two trees with onesies hung with clothes pins a few yards away from coolness.

The head Craftster spotted me marched over with her scissors cut my clothesline and snipped, “YOU CAN’T HANG THINGS FROM TREES, IF YOU HAD A PERMIT YOU WOULD KNOW THAT!”

“THAT’S MY LIFELINE YOU JUST CUT BITCH!” I snapped back, “JUST SO YOU KNOW, I’M JUST TRYING TO EARN ENOUGH MONEY TO BUY PAMPERS AND MEDICINE FOR MY BABY. LEAVE ME ALONE!” I say as I rehung my line.

Next thing I know the cops show up and ask me if I have a permit. “No I don’t have a permit, I also don’t have any weapons of mass destruction.”

“We’re gonna have to ask you to leave, if you don’t have a permit.”

I packed up my stuff and the Craftsters clapped singing, “Shananana Hey Hey Heeey Goooood-Bye.”

I flipped them the bird and rolled my stroller right into a man. I looked up and there stood my ex-husband, Jack.

“Is that really you? What are you doing here?” I asked thinking, “am I in the Twilight Zone? Jack has been living in New York for the last year.

“Shopping for tomatoes at the farmers market,” he replied as if it were no big deal.

“No, What are you doing in Portland?”

Jack proceeds to tell me that he had a nervous break down and had just been released from the loony bin. He thought he’d be better off living closer to his family. I introduced him to my son and he walked me home. “So, do you want to have sex?” I asked.

“No, I’m good,” he says.

“what a trip, Jack was always a sure thing.

“I’m just trying to get my shit together.”

“Is it because I have a baby?” I asked pondering why all of a sudden he doesn’t want me.

“Well it’s actually the meds, I feel great now, but lost all sexual desire.” He says happily.

“Good for you, now leave, I’ve had enough rejection for one day.”

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