Blacklisted

Manic Mommy was one of my very first blogger friends. I found her, I loved her writing, loved her love of wine. That might have been enough to forge a beautiful, blogger friendship, but no, I had to go and do something humiliating, like, well, the likes of which I'm known for, unfortunately. For weeks, I commented on Manic Mommy's blog, laughing at her crazy life, sharing common looniness of my own, exposing intimate details about me, becoming friends... but I was doing it... to a total stranger! Never mind that I thought her blog looked different, no matter that the tone had changed, it was Manic Mommy, who else would it be? Well, hello! There are two Manic Mommies - duh! But I just kept trucking along, blah, blah, blahbiddy, blah, blah. Until the second Manic Mommy emailed me and said, "Uh, Fran, I don't know how to tell you this..." Oooh, can you feel the blood rushing to my cheeks? I'm experiencing it all over again, right now. Anyway, the real Manic Mommy (as far as I'm concerned) got a laugh out of it and our BBF status was truly formed.

She keeps me laughing with her wry take on domestic life. I hope you love her like I do but don't LET me come home and find out you've stolen my BBF from me. I know where you live.


Scene: 7:30 am. Approximately 12 hours after Manic Mommy and Daddy have emptied the living room of the following:

• One oversized, incredibly heavy, and entirely abused living room couch
• Its little sister, the soon-to-be-former love seat, same condition
• Under-couch detritus
• Embarrassingly large pile of under-couch detritus
• 3x3 square coffee table; gouged, scraped, stickered, and colored
• Matching end table with the drawer handled removed. In surprisingly good shape, given the fate of the its compatriots

Jordan’s Furniture Delivery Guy arrives at front door to be greeted by Manic Mommy, looking like a million bucks in grey t-shirt and pink pajama bottoms, hair back in a headband. She did put a bra on.

MM (huge smile – she’s getting new furniture!): Hi!

JFDG: Hi. My name is -

HRH (fresh on the scene, addressing JFDG): Do these look like clothes? They’re really ‘jamas.

JFDG: Oh, very nice. They’re SpongeBob. (back to MM) Hi, my name is Ariel and –

HRH: I also have a pair of baseball ‘jamas. And they look like clothes, too.

JFDG (cheerily): Oh, you like baseball? Who’s your favorite tea-

HRH (points to furniture care kit box in JFDG’s hand): What’s that? (runs off before answer)

JFDG comes in. He and MM discuss placement of furniture.

RC (enters living room wearing pajama t-shirt and underwear): I have a ‘mote control car. My Nana bought it for me for doing poops in the potty. Do you want to touch it?

HRH (not to be outdone): He has two remote control cars now. One from Nana and a monster truck one that Mommy bought when he wore big boy underwear for a whole day!

JFDG: Blank stare.

Leaves to get furniture.

JFDG II (having clearly been warned, remains silent, eyes averted) enters and begins removing French door from hinges.

RC: My Daddy has a hammer. And it’s loud too. Bang! BaNG! BANG!

JFDGs begin carrying in furniture/dodging little boys.

MM (attempting normal service-person-type conversation): Gee, it’s really muggy already. I thought it was supposed to rain all day today.

With each piece…

HRH: Once we had thunder and lightning and that tree over there…

…they are subjected…

MM: Guys, please stay out of the men’s way. Get that remote control car off the new table!

…to more…

RC: I have Diego underwear (sits on floor and spreads legs, knees bent). Want to see?

…of the same…

JDFG: Anyquestions?Canyousignhere?Thanksbye!

Manic Mommy gazes lovingly at pristine, matching, un-destroyed new living room…and barely hears him. Yeah, whatever, dude.