The Rebel Chick Creed – (on the serious side)

I know “Life’s a Laugh,” but sometimes I’ve got an idea that’s just not that funny, but it still might bring a smile to your face.  It’s the kind of idea that I can’t help but share (because I can) – so I will … This one’s for you ladies.

Prelude to “A Rebel Chick Creed”

I am a Rebel Chick.  I didn’t realize this, however, until I turned 39 which was nine short years ago.  Although it feels more like just two or three years, somehow 3,287 days have passed me by.  Up to that point, I had been known as a daughter, sister, wife, friend, girlfriend, mother, stepmother, granddaughter, girl, gal, momma, woman, (for a short time “fox”) babe, and chick – to mention a few.  I could continue on with the list but then I’d be more inclined to go off subject and tell the tales related to why my late husband occasionally referred to me as his “wench,” for example.   It wasn’t until I joined a group of friends in a monthly rendezvous ritual at 39 that I recognized my true identity.

As most groups go, we quickly realized our need for a name,