Dear status update, dear Facebook; here I make a solemn vow
That throughout my lovely married life some things I’ll not allow
No detailed play-by-play of cleaning; no album of food I cook
No, my menial daily details shall not be here when you look
I won’t burden you with descriptions of how much mold I’ve seen
Nor bore with exclamations of the stores to which I’ve been
I’ll not brag of groceries carried through the snow, uphill both ways
I’ll refrain from sharing every humorous thing my husband says
Should I learn that Christmas trees can be re-purposed in a stew
If I shout of this finding, dear Facebook, it will not be to you
Though my laundry skill may keep even one sock from escaping
Or I may once receive an honorary Nobel prize for decorating
Though I may someday be elected as the president of water-filtering
Or add to the English language quaint words such as “Milkering”
(The act of filtering milk- but you must have known that)
I still will not update you daily on my every inspiring act
So dear Facebook, as I promise all of this- or rather, vow
Please know that I am vacuuming left-handed even now
I’ll never stop my duties as wife, woman, and Sarah Anne
But my statuses will always be as interesting as they can.
I personally am not someone who has any great number of conspiracy theories. Yes, when a sudden Swine Flu epidemic broke out shortly after Obama was elected as president, I did wonder if the man-made disease had been released on-command. But come on, when it comes to Obama, politics, and the American government, I am most certainly not the only suspicious person around. There are lots of conspiracy theories, like the ones you learn about when you watch National Treasure. But the kind of conspiracy theories I’m prone to come up with are slightly less political and exciting. I tend to watch my sister take a long drink from MY glass of water, and then say suddenly, “I see what you’re doing! You’re passive-aggressively trying to kill me by drinking my water, and slowly removing everything I need to live!” This is the sort of comment that leads to my sister’s laughter and to jokes about being passive-aggressive between a ninth grade boy and I, as he is constantly asking me for water...
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