Mrs. America

Flash Fiction

No one could say I was not clean and as pure as laundry detergent. At last, my love has come along in the suburban cloverfield. Make my baby sparkle and gurgle Dr. Seuss! Or Dr. Spock, whichever comes up on my TV at night. Bring us a dream!

But my “marriage-and-babyboom” has run its course. An itch that I just could not scratch. Even as Rosie the Riveter: I did not know how to restore Faith in turning a house into Holy Home. The housewife-blight – prescribe anti-depressants stat!

Oh lollystop - painting more than just the crib! Aren’t you Mrs. America? Secret drinking in the morning.