Nothing's Really Mine

When did my computer become every one's computer? When did my ice cream become every one's ice cream? When did my stuff suddenly become the domain of any and all others? When?

No one wants to lay claim to my bra, my jogging shorts, or my whole wheat English muffins, but the good stuff, they all want.

I hold no grudge or admit any error on my part for being too generous with my things, I suppose it's just part of being a mom.

I draw the line though when I sit to type on my computer and the keys are sticky. Remnants of soda sipped through a straw got misguided and landed on the keys of my computer while some seven year old was playing Club Penguin. I'm not happy about that.

I love how Club Penguin entertains my seven year old and keeps him from spewing snide remarks to others who live in our home, but I can do without the sticky keys on my computer. Really?

Nothing is really mine except the feminine hygene products and tank tops I wear to bed. No one wants those things, and one day, I hope, they won't want to use my computer either. They should really save their money and buy their own.