Camp Hot Mess

Unless you’re a mom, you just wouldn’t understand.
The crying, the diapers, the late nights, the early mornings.
The laughter, the smiles, the joy, the blessing.
I get it. I’m living it. I love it.
I also know that sometimes, moms need a break.
A rest away from the world, away from their troubles, away from the everyday hustle and bustle.
A ranch retreat run by hot cowboys for a month? I’ll pay double.
One whole month of nothing but fun and adventures.
I don’t think those cowboys knew what they were in for when they signed us up.
We’re the ones they all talk about.
Too loud. Too casual. Too rude.
Drink too much, talk too much, swear too much…
You know. Those moms.
We love our kids more than life itself, but we’re a god damned mess.
We need a break.
We need those men to ride us as hard as they ride them horses…
Well, I do anyway.
Did I mention I’m single?
Oh, I am.
Did I mention I have secrets?
Whoops. I guess I do.
Did I mention I’m a hot mess?
They’re about to find out just how much.


Walkers Hills, #2

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