My husband likes to refer to me as a gangster. He calls me this probably on a daily basis. It’s intended as a term of endearment but honestly, it pisses me off.
In the grand scheme of things, I am NOT a gangster. I’m a 32 year old mother of three autistic boys who, aside from being a slave ahem housewife, waits tables at Ruby Tuesdays. I drive a Kia Soul, who I lovingly refer to as Hammy and I drink coffee like its the only thing keeping me alive. I have an addiction to crime shows and I play words with friends and Yahtzee on my phone. I honestly cannot think of a person less gangster than me.
However, I do have an attitude problem. I’m stubborn and I have a “take no shit” kind of attitude. I’ve been known to say things like “If you mess up my clean kitchen, I’ll cut you” so I guess if you look at it that way, I am a little gangster.
I think all of us may have a little gangster in us. I’m definitely not Straight out of Compton, but I think I can be a bitch when I want and/or need to be. #thuglife
I work hard and I get frustrated sometimes so I guess that’s when my gangster is showing. Oh well. I’m going to own it. There aren’t enough housewife gangsters anyway. Perhaps I can start a crew.
And this…will be our anthem!