Having a blog is a great torment for my family. Every conversation ends with “You’re not going to blog about that are you?” Why yes, I think I will! Every flub is met with panic. I have a new super power!
I hear my Mother cringe in panic. Is she going to pull out our skeletons and wield them around slowly slicing the false persona our family has tried to maintain to itty bitty bits? Why did I let her befriend some of my co-workers? ** Cries into hands**
My dear Husband provides the most fodder but I’m afraid to speak of his antics. My reasons are quite selfish. I just don’t want to go visit him in jail. Seriously, it takes up your Saturdays and there’s the whole “Don’t bring weapons into the facility” thing. Come on! My whole purse is a mobile container of potential weapons. I haven’t cleaned that thing out since I bought it. Is visitation that important? Next they’ll want me to shave my legs!
Then there’s poor Pearl. We’re out walking and she is having pooping “issues”. I can just hear her: “Seriously? I got poop stuck to my butt and you stop to take a picture so you can blog about it? STOP LAUGHING WHEN I DRAG MY BUM ACROSS THE YARD!”
My own Brother doesn’t want me to sit with him in church anymore. I think he’s trying to convince people that we’re not related.
Ok, so the truth is I am scared to tell all. I do have to live with these people. Well, actually…I only have to live with my husband and pets so….