What do you think of my essay?

When I am an adult ( I'll never grow up so I shall say when I'm an adult) I intend to be a happily married lesbian housewife (or wife of David Bowie) who not only writes novels, performs in community theater shows, teaches Queer literature and Queer history classes, studies genetics in her free time and eventual president. However because you wish to stifle my creativity I must choose one, and I choose to write about being a Queer lit/history teacher and Mom. Here is a day in that life:

"MOM!! WAKE UP YOU STUPID COW!!" My eight year old daughter Hermia screams in my ear.

"Yell in my ear and call me a cow again and I swear on all that is ******** holy I will take that class on the theories of Sigmund Freud."

"Is Sigmund Freud that dude who thinks every woman wants to sleep with her father?"

"Yup."

Hermia scrunched up in fear "I be good!!" she squeeled.

"Get out of here squirt" I said messing up her hair and grinning "I gotta get dressed." I stood up and streched and walked over to my wardrobe. I pulled out a light pink puffy blouse and a skirt reaching up to the top shelf and getting my rhinestone headband.

I jumped into the shower got washed, got out toweled off , got dressed and went downstairs.

My beautiful wife was bottle feeding our son, Lysander and Hermia was putting way too much maple syrup on her pancakes.

"Do you want to take over or - " my darling asked

"I'm going to take him to work today, so since I'll have to suffer from sore breasts all day you can finish."

"Can you take Hermia to school today? I'd do it but the bookstore is short staffed today."

"Sure. " I glanced at my watch "Oh damn, we're going to have to hurry, Hermia, take the plate with you, I'm going to be late for my first fricken class"

I walked over to my wife and took Ly in my arms and gave my wife a kiss as Hermia darted out the door.

I grabbed the diaper bag and put the keys to my car in my mouth and ran out following my rambunctious daughter.

She was already buckled into her seat in my mercedes and I handed her her brother to buckle him in.

I got behind the wheel, slammed the door and buckled myself in. I turned on the David Bowie CD I had in the player, put my key in the ignition and pulled out of the driveway.

I dropped Mia at school and started driving to the University.

When I got there I put Ly in his stroller and ran into the liberal arts building.

"Sorry I'm late." I said to my students as I walked into the room. " I have Ly today and... I'm sorry, I'm rambling, can someone tell me where we left off yesterday?"

A girl in the front row who was wearing a very clingy sweater bearing the school's logo raised her hand. "We were on the discussion of the Anita Bryant crusades."

"Ah thank you."

I managed to get through the day with Ly crying only twice. After about five more classes I drove home and was greeted with the site of the chinese delivery man on the stoop. 'Thank G-d, Chinese food HURRAH!'

I walked in the door to my house and sighed. I had a kick a ss life.

What do you think of my essay?the grand theater

Sorry for being a critic, but being a fan of writing myself I just can't help it...=/

Not great. Not bad either, but it just doesn't seem to have any appeal.

Sorry... *hug*

What do you think of my essay?soap opera opera theater

I like it! Very descriptive and detailed. Good job!!
I could say that you need to grow up, but you said that you would never do that.

So I suggest this: WHEN (and IF) you ever become an adult, you will have kids and they will hopefully treat you the same way.
No offense, but that's not exactly great. It's a good story (and I can see it happening) but it's not really an essay, it's a narrative. Other than that it's fine.
ur so messed up
I don't think this is an essay. I think you've written a narrative.

you're imagination is fun though... I don't fully understand the reason you have to highlight that you are a lesbian in your story as it's not an essay about sexual orientation.
Sounds like a good story, though somewhat sentimental and not really a reflection of the gritty reality of a gay relationship, but, eh whatever.

Hermia sounds dangerously close to hernia, was that deliberate? As in your child causes pain and must be removed?
You're so creative. Now I know who I want to write my biography. =)

?
Sorry to say it, but your essay sincerely lacks.
i really like it especially how your kids' names are from shakespeare