I am a writer.

I am a writer… that’s “writer” with a lowercase “w.” I do not have the time, energy, or that special something to be a Writer with a capital letter.

I am too busy wiping snotty noses and dirty faces, scrubbing sticky floors and stinky toilets, and washing crusty dishes and smelly clothes.

My brain is too drained from constantly reminding kids to close the front door, pick up your shoes, do your homework, eat your food, hang up your clothes, turn off the television, brush your teeth, get in the shower, get out of the shower, go to sleep, get out of that damn bed, and put on some @#$! pants!

Maybe someday I might become an uppercase Writer. But until then, I am just a plain-old, worn-out writer. Please pass me the pen… and the Pinesol.

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