Motherhood vs Prison

In prison, you get three square meals a day.

At home, you cook three square meals a day and try to get your kids to eat it. You eat their leftovers.

In prison, you get an hour each day in the yard to exercise and mingle.

At home you get to clean the yard up so you can mow it so your kids can spread more toys all over it so that you can go out and clean it again because little Jr. can't sleep without his latest lego creation.

In prison, you get to watch TV, cable even.

At home, you get to listen to your children fight over the remote control and get treated to hours and hours of mindless cartoons thanks to cable.

In prison, you can read whatever you want and attend college for free.

At home, you get to read weekly readers starring Dick, Jane, and Spot and worry about how to send Jr. to college and still be able to eat for the next twenty years.

In prison, all your medical care is free.

At home, you have to pawn your mother's silver and fill out trillions of papers for insurance and hope the doctor will see you before you die.

In prison, if you have visitors, all you do is go to a room, sit, talk and then say good-bye when you are ready or your time is up.

At home, you get to clean for days in advance and then cook and clean up after your guests and hope that they will one day leave.

In prison, you can spend your free time writing letters or just hang out in your own space all day.

At home, you get to clean your space and everyone else's space, too, and what the heck is free time again?

In prison, you get your own personal toilet.

At home, you have to physically hold the bathroom door shut in order to keep from having someone standing over you demanding to know how long till you're done so you can do something for them.

In prison, the prison laundry takes care of all your dirty clothes.

At home, you get to take care of them yourself, plus everybody else's, and get yelled at because somebody's favorite shirt isn't clean.

In prison, they take you everywhere you need to go.

At home, you take everybody else where they need to go.

In prison, the guards transport all your personal effects for you and make sure nothing is missing.

At home, you have to lug around everybody else's stuff in your purse and then wonder who went in it and took your last dollar.

In prison, there are no screaming or whining children or spouses asking you to do something else for them, or screaming at you because you didn't. Doesn’t that make you want to go out and do something illegal?