Generic and name brand people.
I'm not talking Gucci vs Prada, I'm talking Campbell's soup vs. Mr. Yumskies soup.
Staring at the chunky vegetable Campbell's soup, with its eye catching red label and systematically chosen font, I realize I used to be a name brand kind of person. I was the high school girl with the dark sense of humor. I was the first to smoke a cigarette, first to kiss a boy, first to taste alcohol, etc. I wore cute clothes and painted my nails. I styled my hair and walked with an arrogant strut. I winked at the boys in the car next to mine.
But, as following my own lead I was the first to get pregnant. Now, I am the generic brand, the generic mom. I am the pale white, times new roman, 60's Cuban missile crisis bomb shelter style labeled Mr. Yumskies tomato soup that tastes like ketchup and water. We generic people are the people who never quite catch your eye. We aren't quite the dollar general store, but we are the invisible middle ground. We are the mini-van drivers. We are the wearers of 5k t-shirts that we never ran. We are the coupon-cutters. We are the barely making it paycheck to paycheck, and yet we keep having kids.
I realize I am one of these. I am the generic mom. Call me Mrs. Yumskies.
