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Hey Ellen!  I hear you are buddies with Oprah, and she seems to be ignoring me. I started up a friendship with her via my blog about 6 months ago, and I really am feeling like it’s very one sided.  She knows so much about me after my correspondence, but she seems reluctant to tell me about herself.  I saw that she and her best girlfriends went to spin class and ate yummy stuff right afterwards to toast her 60th birthday.  Can’t say that I don’t feel a little snubbed—did you go?

I’ve been telling her all about my life raising children, being an artist and interior designer.  I have to say, I think I am pretty funny writer, so surely she is amused, but she isn’t validating me.  VALIDATE ME, OPRAH (and you too, Ellen)!

Here’s a little story to give you a taste of the fantastic literature and friendship I have been offering:

Dear Oprah, I follow you on Facebook, but I have decided that that platform isn’t much fun anymore…too much posturing and too, TOO much political ranting and cause forcing down my neck.  I want to be amused, entertained—not lambasted with opinions and self-promotion (as I shamelessly promote myself to you and Oprah right this moment.  That’s different though—I am a literary stalker, not a Facebook resume-er {is that a word?})

Anyhoo, I started an Instagram account a few months ago, but being 42, I didn’t jump into that technological giant feet first.  Instead I waited until I was ready, and good and tired of the other ways to show the funny crap my kids do.  Whoa!  That is too much fun, especially since I like taking pictures and coming up with clever captions.  Which brings me to my parenting story this week.

It has been two years since Mikey’s first and last dental appointment.  It wasn’t terrible, but they weren’t set up for children let alone slightly neurotic ones with ADHD.  Last summer, I found a highly recommended pediatric dentist that our insurance covered.  After printing and filling out paperwork that was roughly the amount of pages in War and Peace, I didn’t get around to making the appointment, and then promptly misplaced the new patient novel.  Six months later, I did it all over again and Monday was the day for both Mikey and Pierce to have a real dental appointment.  It was also the day after they decided that it was time to break out the Spiderman and Superman costumes, and revive the old novelty of being comic book heroes.  This fun imaginary play carried on through bedtime and the next day.  Mikey wanted to wear Spiderman to school.  We told him that was a great idea and he should do it, but he chickened out—probably just as well, since we would likely be called to the principal’s office for that stunt.  But Pierce…oh Pierce…he would not remove his Superman costume with the rippling muscles (those Spartan guys from the movie “300” should have worn flesh colored versions of these—it would have saved them from months in the gym and boring chicken and broccoli.) Image


He went to my friend’s house for the morning while I went to an install for a client, and when we got back home, his dad was arriving for lunch.  I was hoping he could talk Pierce into changing for his dental appointment, but sort of secretly thinking about the amusement I would get out of hanging with Superman for the afternoon.  Superman turned into a super baby, and laid on the floor and cried.  It wasn’t until we said he could wear his costume but he would have to where a shirt and underwear under it for the dental visit.  It was simply a little too risqué for public, what with fancy tight tights and a sexy open back without the cape. 

Off we went to pick up Mikey from school, where I walked into the office with Superman on my arm.  We snuggled and chatted while we waited.  Pretty soon Michael came in escorted by two girls from class.  They thought it was pretty nifty that I was hanging around with Superman for the day.


Then to the dentist.  What a cool place!  It was totally geared toward kids and consequently quelled any nerves.  It was so cool, that nobody noticed that I was with Superman…nobody…   Well, with my own ego put aside, the boys went back with the hygienists and had a better experience than I could have hoped for.  Then, surely to stroke my ego, their dentist told me how much he loves his job because he gets to meet all the super heroes—wait!  That wasn’t an ego stroke for me!  That was diminishing the fact that I came to his office with Superman!  DAMN IT!  This ego can’t take anymore ignoring!