Shopping with Mom at The Target the other day and we got separated. So I’m wandering about looking for her and a helpful The Target helper gets up in my face to ask if I need help with anything. To which I say without thinking:

“Yes. I can’t find my Mommy.”

where your kid won’t go down for a nap so you totally ignore him until he passes out on the floor of his room with a pile of Matchbox cars on his chest and then you can’t decide if you should pick him up and put him in bed because what if you wake him up and then you’re screwed?

Me either.

Some of which include:

That time in that bar where I did that thing. (x infinity) I know someone has video.

All of the evilly e-mails I have sent to elected officials.

My YouTube account.

My husband.

The fact that I have a wonky eye. People don’t trust a wonky eye, and who can blame them? Not me.

This blog.

Well, technically I cold run for office. But given the above…Joe Sestak would have a better shot, and he almost took a secret backroom deal to not primary Specter.