So I was extremely nervous for my Mom to read my blog post from Monday, where I offered nothing but a completely accurate recap of our weekend trip to Planet Ozark. After 24 hours of sweating it out because I didn't get a call back, I finally had the chance to speak with her about it:
Me: Sooo... did you read my blog on Monday?
My Mom: No - I've been so busy - we've had Khale (my nephew/her Grandson) all day and he's been playing and...
Me: (cutting in) Ok... well you have to promise you won't get mad when you read it.
My Mom: What! Why? WHAT DID YOU WRITE? HANNAH! WHAT DID YOU DO?
Me: Well, everything I said was completely accurate.
My Mom: Oh my God... I am going to drive up there and kill you. That's it. I'm starting my own blog.
After giving this some thought, I actually think that this sounds like a great idea to help my Mom kill some free time and I've taken it upon myself to provide her with some thought starters:
Salza, and why it's fine to feed to 16-week-old babies.
What's wrong with the way I say salza? Isn't that how you say it?
Why do all the good kids grow up and move so far away and the other ones move back into my guest room?
Trust me - I'm a doctor. No, I didn't go to medical school, but I raised three kids. It's the same thing.
Really? I can put pictures from my camera onto my computer?
Only jerks live in the city.
Why aren't my kids pregnant yet? I know they're still in the hospital from the other one, but they have a private room, don't they?
Just kidding, Mom - you are awesome and because of you I laugh instead of cry when the voices in my head tell me I need to iron my curtains.
Just remember that you created this monster.