Caloden

Last night I came to the realization that I would make a lousy celebrity. As I went downstairs to do the final sweep: stove off, no open windows, clutter shoved under the couch…both Loren and Cassidy descended upon me from out of nowhere. They were like a paparazzi blitz in a Lindsay Lohan feeding frenzy. Cassidy was trotting along side of me yapping up questions and complaints while needing answers to her find-a-word puzzle book. Loren was on the other side firing questions into my ear, as he is now at ear height, about snow conditions for snowboarding, the location of his wool socks, the status on his wet gloves etc. No matter where I went or how fast I walked, they dogged me until I thought I might entirely lose it one final and glorious time for the day.

Now aside from my ever growing popularity as I quest for my Mother of the Year award, I have no real crowd appeal. I shouldn’t sing out loud, I don’t act, my Playboy centerfold days are long behind me so I guess I really needn’t worry about my realization. Celebrityhood just isn’t in the cards for me. But I still am wildly popular when the kids need something and someday I will fondly look back at their annoying stalker ways and miss them deeply.