Don't judge, you know you do it too. Everybody tries to project an image. Is that so wrong? Think about it, if we went around all vulnerable all the time we'd get blasted to pieces in twelve seconds flat. Yes, everybody wears a mask. My mask is "Tough and Cool".
Hunneypunkin, empty-handed, drops the door in my face while I'm carrying a backpack, two-point-seven children, a leaky water bottle, nine bags of groceries, ten library books, half a dozen jackets, and a dog? No indignation. I don't need a spouse, I can do it all myself because I'm tough and cool.
Overhearing the ladies discussing what my attitude problem is all about? I didn't realize my migraine was showing. Migraine headaches and brattitudes result in a similar facial expression. No, my feeling isn't hurt. (I only have one feeling, and it's tough. And cool.)
Split the butt out of my Levi's in public? No big deal. Drop my jacket like a ninja and tie it around my waist to cover my hiney, and nobody's the wiser, because I keep looking tough and cool.
Haters dissin my cubs? No rage. I mean, there's no point in denying that split second daydream of choking the spit out of the haters when the mother-bear comes out in you, but we don't have to dwell on that. Hug my cubs, square their shoulders, remind them to forgive, and we all look tough and cool.
People are like dogs, if they smell insecurity on you they'll try to bite it off, but if you're awesome they'll fetch for you. So tomorrow, like every day, when I drag my pathetic self out of bed in the morning aching and hobbling like an old guy, I'll suck it up, practice my best Jeremy Renner face in the mirror (except that I'm a girl), and whether I feel like it or not, I'm going to look tough and cool.
I can hear the penguins saying that: "tough and cool, boys, tough and cool."
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