Sometimes I want to hire a nanny. But not a nanny for the kids because what's the point of having kids if they give the nanny all the love? But a nanny for me. A Momanny if you will. So I can have adult conversations when it's convenient. So when I hear things on the radio I can immediately converse about it with someone when the topic is fresh. Like the CA woman who just had octuplets. You know the story---it's first reported as a marvelous thing that she was able to carry all 8 babies and everyone is healthy. Then the next day the story is that she had done it before and has 6 little kids at home already. By donated sperm! And she lives with her parents in a three bedroom apartment. Now the debate is over family planning and what roles infertility doctors should have. What do you think?
Then I saw an ad for fried twinkies and really wanted to point it out to my imaginary momanny and wonder who in the world would eat a fried twinkie and live to tell about it? You? Gross, gross, gross. Unfried twinkies give me the willies when I think too much about them. Kindof like hotdogs. Sadly though, you'll catch me eating both on occasion. Then my momanny and I will giggle at my hypocrisy and tell the kids to be quiet while we watch The View together and get mad at that mean Joy Behar. Yes. I definitely need a Momanny.