Just plain white trash

Do you know what sucks about being poor? Okay not really poor poor. We have a roof over our heads and people have stuff to eat. But there are no room for luxuries. And I don't mean luxuries the way some lucky folks do. I mean things like pans that don't wobble on the stove. Enough batteries to power all the remotes. Socks that I don't have to steal borrow from my son's drawer. Moisturizer for your rapidly aging face that has spf in it and doesn't squirt out yellow. Nail polish that stays on your fingernails for more than like 32 hours. Non generic ranch. Hair-cuts for the children that don't obviously look like you did them. Socks that match. A car wash when the weather guy finally says it's warm enough for a car wash but that's okay because the car doesn't run away. Toilet bowl brushes that fit in the holders. Pillow cases for all the pillows. Styling materials for mom's new low maintenance haircut that was a necessity (sent 22" to locks of love, picture below). Mom lost 130+ lbs and can't afford a new pair of jeans or a belt so she just walks around holding her pants. Real kitchen chairs instead of folding chairs. A coat for mom.

*sigh* We've all been there right? I remember my mom being there when she first left my dad. I remember upside down trash-cans for end tables. I remember begging my stepdad Mark to come over because that meant there'd be food besides soup and a vegetable. And my kids...my kids, they're happy. They're safe. I'm safe for once. Not being put down, no longer under anyone's heavy hand. And we do a lot of soup nights. And we got lucky and HAVE furniture from our move out. But sometimes I miss the little things that I guess would be considered first world problems now. For now I guess we're just plain white trash.