So, tomorrow morning Southern Living magazine will be featuring me as their southern blogger of the week and my delusional mind has been working in overdrive thinking of all the fabulous accolades that will be coming my way.
Matt Lauer. Oprah. Katie Couric. Perez Hilton.
Yeah, I know. I have issues.
But even on the home front these delusions persist…
I will be awoken around 11 to breakfast in bed by my beautiful, perfectly coiffed children who will present me with a bouquet of pink lilies. They will kiss me and then each other and say out loud, “We are so lucky to have a mother like you!”
Rachel will put on a bra without being threatened with duct tape.
She will brush her teeth with water AND toothpaste….and be happy about it.
She will not argue with me as to why I won’t let her get on My Space and say all her friends are stupid for being on there.
She will announce that she’s tired of her room being a pig sty and promise it will always be clean.
Ella will have slept all night in her own bed.
She will announce that she is done with bologna….forever.
She will apologize for all the MAC lipstick she has ruined using it to write her name on her chalkboard and vow to never do it again.
Todd will not ask where his shirt, pants, shoes, boxers, socks or belt is located but will be all ready dressed when he serves me breakfast.
He will tell me that it really doesn’t matter how long the laundry stays in the basket but that he’s so grateful it’s clean.
And to top it off, a newly hired house cleaner will arrive and tackle this domestic hell-hole we call home.
I will then read them my acceptance speech with the grace and dramatic effect of Scarlett O’Hara. Nobody will roll their eyes…or hit their sister…or spill something on the floor.
By then, I will have awoken in the psych ward doing the Thorazine shuffle.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to find duct tape for Rachel’s bra.