Dollar-Store Junkie
I’m a middle-aged mom,
A washed-out CrossFit flunkie,
I love cheap thrills and dollar bills,
‘Cuz I’m a dollar store junkie.
When I don’t need it, but it’s cheap,
Into my cart is where it goes:
Tin foil, duct tape, ice cream
And nail polish for my toes.
And so fifty items later,
Once I’ve filled my cart with crap,
It’s through the store once more,
For another bargain-hunting lap.
I may never have a fancy yacht,
Or be a lady billionaire,
But when I’m at the Dollar Tree,
I can spend without a care.
Dollar General, I salute you
Family Dollar, you’re my jam.
Am I an addict? I don’t know.
But there’s a good chance that I am.
I guess it could be worse,
I could be a whiny Karen or a nut,
A Flat-Earther or a cougar,
Stuck in an eighties rut.
There’s no quitting this for me,
So just let me run amuck
At that little slice of heaven,
Where everything’s a buck!
