bad girl

There once was a day.

I’m sure there was a day.

There has to be a day.

In the history of me.

In this span of my existence.

In the 11,634 days I’ve been strutting on this earth.

Taking up space.

There must be one day I wasn’t a troublemaker.

It definitely wasn’t the day I was almost a year, I helped my brother make it snow for Santa by dumping out the bean bag chairs.

Maybe the day I spray painted the basement walls, no not that day.

Maybe the day in the park when I bet Spaz she couldn’t climb up that tree, or stick her head in that fence.

Both resulting in meaning cute firemen.

I once wrapped her car in plastic wrap and replaced her bed with a dog bed.

Those weren’t the days I wasn’t a troublemaker.

Most days are filled with choices a better person than me wouldn’t make and cussing at people.

I’m the main character in life.

Therefore, behaving isn’t a chapter.

But there once was a day.

I’m sure there was a day.

There has to be a day.

Where I wasn’t a troublemaker.