Marry the rich guy
This morning, as I was driving back from dropping the boys off at school, an old school friend of mine drove past me. In a sleek sexy brand-new Mercedez. Even though my bakkie is higher, she still seemed to tower out above me.
It’s not even as though she worked to earn that car … she married to earn that car. I thought of how I used to sit hours and teach her accounting. How she really battled at school (even with boyfriends) and yet, she ended up marrying the rich guy.
For a second there, I thought that Marriage 101 should be taught in school. How to catch the rich guy and such. Sommer having a small pity party. (I always wish I didn’t have to work, this time of the year)
I then thought of how I see her and her husband at school. They don’t look happy. Maybe it’s just their way … not to show affection but they don’t look happy.
I am happy though. I work hard, mostly wish I could be a stay-at-home-mom but I’m happy. I’d love to have less stress and more time with the children. I think they would be happier and less stressed but we are happy. We enjoy each other and feel loved. Things work for us.
So yes, I’d love the smart car and no work but I prefer the happy we have.