I am white trash.
I have admitted it before.
I teach my kids about it.
I get all giddy inside when I find reasons to think I am not as white trash as I thought.
I have bragged about embracing it.
Thanks to all ya'll in the South, who helped me get there.
However, being white trash does not make me void of feelings.
It does not make give me permission to not try and be a better wife.
It does not make me NOT want for more out of myself.
It certainly doesn't make me unloved.
So, if I am white trash, so be it.
But, you, whoever you are, that loves to call me white trash,
because you think it's the most hurtful thing you can say.
First of all, you have to do better than that.
And second, I just want you to know one thing.
I know that God knows what you do and you will one day have to answer to Him.
Therefore, I don't have to worry about it.
And do you know what else?
I love it when I have a church sign that is perfect for the moment.
You can't touch me because I have sonscreen,
therefore I cannot be burned.
When you sit at your computer and spew forth vial insults anonymously, do you know what it says about you? You are a coward and you have issues.
Why are you obsessing over me?
And why do you feel it justified to kick any of God's children, even if they are Mormon.
I would be white trash any given day over mean and hateful.
White trash people are some of the best people I know.
It's the people who don't admit their trashy parts that I worry about.
And the people who go around pointing fingers at other people for being trashy are especially special.
I poke fun. I speak my mind. I have opinions, sometimes they are wrong. Gratefully, there are people out there who have the guts to take it up with me in person because when they correct me in love (often on my blog) I often find myself wanting to change. And I am grateful when I see the error in my ways because this life is really just one big chance to improve really.
Deep inside I love people, I really do.
And that is why people love me in return.
Let me talk to you for 5 minutes,
I will try my darndest to understand you and I will find a reason to love you.
I probably already have.
Sorry for the rant today, my readers who come over for some funny, but it was merited and anonymous put me in bad mood which reflects on my writing.
Go ahead everyone, feel free to stand with me and admit just one part of your trashy selves.
It's so liberating.
Today's admission for this not so fun blogger:
My baby is walking around in a onsie that is covered in brown make-up stains.
I put it on her after getting it out of her drawer that way.
Yesterday after Abigail's load of laundry was covered in ink stains out of the dryer,
I told her to just go ahead and fold her bras and underwear as nobody is gonna see the stains on her underwear.
I hope I will remember to tell her to wear the unstained ones next time she has a doctor's appointment.
Oh, and if you happened to miss all the excitement and are wondering why the heck I am freaking out, make sure you read each and every comment by anonymous on this popular post.