I’m a fake, a phony and a wannabe. It’s not easy pretending to belong to this group of women. Sure, I can talk the talk, but I can’t walk the walk. My “bestie” tries to convince me it’s time to come clean. But how do I admit I’m jealous. I just want to be part of the “in” crowd, a scrapbooker! I think it started when I was an innocent 10-year-old. My neighbor, an older woman of 14, introduced me to stickers. Puffy, smelly, glittery, she had them all. And I had to have them too. I’d do all sorts of odd jobs from cleaning cars, picking up dog poop and babysitting to get my hands on some cold hard cash. I just loved stickers. Then came Duran Duran and my sticker obsession went out the door, but did it? Suddenly came my 30’s, kids and scrapbooking. My world of stickers is back. I have big plans to commemorate all of my family’s milestones with stickers, colored papers, and embellishments. I don’t want to admit how much I’ve spent on scrapbooking supplies because my hubby will read this. Let’s just say; I’ve managed to purchase a Cricut. Sure I’ve got grand plans, but I’m overwhelmed. Do you know how many pictures a potential scrapbooker takes?
Not to mention a closet full of supplies. Okay, I’ve completed about eight pages, but my boys are ages 10 and 11. At one point, I had to put myself on a Michael’s diet. Now, I can walk into the store, but I must stay away from the scrapbooking aisles. I pledged not to purchase any more supplies until I use what I have, I’ll be 80 before I get another sheet of stickers. Recently I was asked the five things I wanted to accomplish before I die, I said…scrapbook my boys’ lives. My hubby had much grander plans, but me I think my boys should not have to scroll through an external hard drive to see their baby pictures. Today, I completed two pages, and my hubby said, “are you sick?” “No, but at this rate, I’ll be free to die in 50 years.”
