Dress

My mother bought a very fancy dress to wear to a luncheon meeting with Aunt Lois. It was so fancy that Lois Bueno made some scathing comments to my mother about her being too uppity or something, as if Lois were not the ultimate in nasty uppity-ness, at least to us. These Latins treat us like their slave labor because they are taking their cues from the Buenos who treat us as if we were some inferior race suited only to be their nannies and gardeners and translators. We don't mind helping sometimes but we also have lives. We were not created to be slave labor to the Latin Race. We were supposed to come back to the U.S. and get on with our lives and find new friends in college but somehow we got sidetracked and can't seem to get out of this pit. I am not sure how you expect me to make a positive confession when I always seem to get the flip side of whatever I want not that it matters. It is just that you tell me to have faith and then in the next breath you beat the tar out of me so you are not being consistent. If I ask for bread you will give me a stone and if I ask for meat you will most likely give me a scorpion. So go figure!