“Have you packed my lunch, Ma?” My daughter asked, and before I could say yes she grabbed it from the dining table and rushed out of the house.
“Where’s my shoe?” My husband shouted from the drawing hall. “It’s in the third drawer.” I replied from the kitchen.
I ran to the door to say bye to him, but he had already left. I sighed and came back to the kitchen.
This is how my day starts everyday. I’m a housewife; I stay at home all day and they think I do nothing except for cooking their food, washing their clothes, cleaning the house and last but not the least, watching Television.
But that’s not the real me. I’m not who they think I am.
After they leave home, I quickly finish cooking. Then putting the clothes in the washer, I open my husband’s laptop. I open the browser in…
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