So, I guess today is all about me. Me, me, me. Because, you know, egotism is in, and selflessness is SOOOO yesterday!
I would like to begin my “All About Me” day with some requests. First, to you.
Dear Loyal Readers,
Please head on over to Mental Magma and check out their current contest–Hallmark Schmallmark! Then scroll down to Comment #26 and read my entry. Then please, pretty please vote for me. Two thumbs up would be AWESOME. Why, you ask, do I want to win this contest so badly? I’ve asked myself this same question. Maybe because I really need an ego boost this week, and I’ve already gotten quite a few votes from people who aren’t even related to me! Maybe because I’m getting more competitive in my old age and want to beat these other b#$@stards who think they are soooo creative. And maybe because I have just gone completely off the deep end. Yeah, that one may be right on the money. But nevertheless, I really want to win, so if you’d be so kind as to help a pathetic 36-year-old anxiety-ridden dame hang on to a ravelling shred of hope that maybe, just maybe, she has what it takes to make it as a writer someday, I will love you forever. And I will leave my dog to you in my will.
Now to some other important people who have been lately on my mind:
Dear Mr. Clean,
I need you. I need you more than any middle-aged woman has ever needed a bald man wearing a silver hoop earring. The walls—oh, the poor walls! They have been scuffed; scraped; smeared; scribbled on with crayons, markers, and pens; chewed on; and possibly even licked. I need a truckful of your erasers which are magic-in-what-I-hope-won’t-turn-out-to-be-a-toxic-way-twenty-years-from-now. I’ve got more than just a box or two can handle. I need you, Mr. Clean, to come work your magic on my walls—and in my life…
Dear Hoover Corporation,
Would you like to test—I mean really test—how well your SteamVacs can clean even the dirtiest carpets? Well, have I got the carpet for you. Living under a family with three boys and two different dogs at two different times has forced this barely three-year-old carpet to age faster than a chain-smoker whose favorite pastime is slathering on the baby oil and slamming vodka tonics by the side of the pool. Mud, spilled pop, dog urine, markers, and even the occasional feces (both canine and small child) have soiled the once-bright fibers and flattened the previously plush knap. I would be happy to test any and all carpet cleaners for you, and would love to lavishly praise and recommend any steam cleaner that can make my carpet look—and smell—fresher and cleaner. So there is my offer—no, my challenge to you. I daresay it would be a win-win for both of us!
Dear Super Nanny,
Please come whip my family into shape. Oh, yes, that includes me. Organization. Discipline. Follow-through. We need it all. (As well as some help with the laundry if you could squeeze that in.) I’ll even swallow my pride and allow you to film our family in “action,” or “interaction” (or “inaction”). So you know I’m desperate.
Dear Cesar Millan,
Could you come and whisper in my dog’s ear? Just be careful that he doesn’t bite your lips in the process. He needs help with the following: barking, jumping, stealing food off the counter, stealing food off the table, stealing underwear out of the dirty clothes, ripping apart the vacuum cleaner, peeing on the floor, pooping on the floor, occasionally vomiting on the floor, chewing up toys, chewing up shoes, chewing up the wall, chewing up pens, attacking the bird cage, running away, taunting us when we try to catch him, pulling his “monster cable” out of the ground, biting, growling, stealing the covers, jumping into the bathtub, drinking out of the toilet, and humping blankets. No, I’m serious.
Ok, everyone. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.