As I sit here watching a rat lick the opening to the lid of my Starbucks mocha latte cup I ponder my purpose in life. Had I not been finished my latte, my sole short-term lifes ambition would be assuring the untimely demise of the household vermin. Luckily for him I was done.

Being a stay at home mom has it's rewards. Not as many as I used to have mind you, in my previous careers. In Nursing, I got to help people and their families though some difficult times. I was always up to date on the latest medical advancements and medications. Sometimes I was treated with respect, like a professional in my field. Sometimes I was treated like a maid, servant, hostess, hooker. It was rewarding sometimes, stressful always. The perks were that firstly, I got paid, and secondly, I got to keep all of the vomit, feces, and urine I could take home in my shoes and clothing.

As a Library Tech. for a high tech firm the perks included unlimited access to the stationary supply cupboard, first dibs on all Bellcore and Industry standards, and sticky buns from the company cafeteria. Oh wait, I had to pay for the sticky buns. But, I did get paid.

As a mom. Hmmm....well, I'm a kept woman. No salary, no benefits....well, Stephen Harper pays me $100 a month. I'm thankful for that. I didn't get anything from the Liberals! I get to spend that $100 sitting at a cafe with Adventurer some mornings pretending to be artistic, and with White Mocha some afternoons being a mom and shaping the future generation of coffee addicts. I enjoy that.

Sometimes I feel guilty for enjoying life in a way that Mr. P. doesn't. He's the only one drawing a salary, and that bothers me. I was always taught I need to work to save for retirement. Our governement has for years made it clear that a mom at home is bad for her children. She is lazy and they will all be stupid. Luckily that is not the philosophy of the current leaders.

I can't help but feel bad none the same for Mr. P. The poor man is right now away in Vancouver (Vicki Stripesless) working his fingers to the bone to bring home enough money so I can enjoy a comfortable lifestyle. He hates travelling. I'm sure that he also hates the upgrade to the executive suite and gacuzzi in his room. The meals out in restraurants of his choice are such a drag. The five hour plane ride....alone, without a single disruption or question from the peanut gallery. Going to the bathroom alone, no one to jimmie the bathroom lock while you're in the shower, to ask you to get them a drink of milk right that very second. How can he stand it? Oh well. At least he gets paid! If not, our rats would be living in the garbage instead of dining on Starbucks coffee. I suppose we would be too!