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The Right Kind Of Bitch

Don't. Even.

The other day, someone called me a “dumb bitch” on Twitter. How rude, I thought…to be accused of being “dumb” by someone I don’t even know.

The other thing though, I mean the bitch part, I can get behind that.

It started me thinking about deep things.  Things such as: How Can I Teach My Daughters How To Be Proper Bitches Just Like Me?” But you know, the good kind of bitches.

Not the bitchy kind.

I was never a bitch growing up; I was what you might consider ‘a people pleaser.’ Which is to say, that I was not at all assertive, I was very shy, and I had a very hard time saying the word NO. Oh, the word NO. I love it so much now. Mmmm…”NO”

I was just practicing.

(But seriously, ask me to take time away from my family to join a zoning committee or bake 250 carrot muffins for any reason, or be the person at your upcoming school carnival who gets cream pies thrown at their face for five dollars…I’m so sorry. No.)

I’m still exceedingly polite (Go Canada!). I still give people the benefit of the doubt. I still work diligently to be kind and generous. All that.

I’m just taking a little time today, because the sun is shining, and I’ve had too much coffee, to embrace my recent friend, The Bitch In Me. The person whose emergence coincided directly with the birth of my first child and appears, on occasion, if you try to steal her taxi, or cut the line, or you know, generally be a bully toward others.

And so, forgive me if you think that my children should be seen and not heard from. Forgive me if you think that your status as an adult supercedes my child’s right to have an opinion about something. Sorry if you think that I’m a bad mother for teaching my children that adults aren’t always right about everything and that they have a right and obligation to question authority. Because they do. And I don’t care if smart children frighten you. And I also don’t care if you think I’m a bitch. Because, in the immortal words of Tina Fey, “Bitches get stuff done.”

So thanks Asshat from Twitter! I’ll take your rebuke, thank you very much, and just to spite you, I will turn your frowny-face upside down into a delightful smiley-faced compliment.

And the next time you call me “dumb”, I am officially cancelling that order you put in for twelve dozen chocolate chip cupcakes for your charity event. Don’t. Even. Try me.

 

 

 

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