If My Mom Were A Blogger....
She could stop cleaning out her closet
She could instead write about cleaning out her closet. This at least would be different.
She would be computer savvy. This would open an entirely new world for her. She could tweet and facebook and upload tutorials on youtube detailing the proper way to clean a closet. She could post pictures of the lovely pies and cobblers she makes. She could post photographs of her paintings on line. She could write mean and nasty posts about people she has known, disliked intensely, and always wanted to get back at in some way.
Perhaps she would adopt a pseudonym for this venture.
She could call herself Ghastly Grammie, or perhaps Vengeful Vicious Viv.
{I kinda like the sound of that last one}. She would set in front of the computer all day, her maniacal, bipolar dog at her side, drinking coffee and dashing off blog posts.
She would stop all the cooking and cleaning she is currently addicted to, and enjoy the excitement of a messy closet like mine, as well as flirting with the delivery guy from Pizza Hut. (No doubt she would tip him generously)
Eventually, throughout her blog travels, she would meet a handsome blogger, silver haired, wealthy, single, and straight. They would begin to correspond. He would be intrigued by her scathingly catty writing style. Eventually they would arrange to meet in a public place. He would wear a designer suit, she a dashing red hat, and a rose between her teeth. They fall instantly in love, elope, and embark upon a world tour in his private jet. Naturally she would take her laptop with her, recording her travels, and enthralling blog readers everywhere.
She would send me postcards via snailmail and call me every other Sunday.
Her new husband would order his jet sent for us just before Christmas time, and we would enjoy a lovely holiday at his ancestral home in Scotland.
Thus are the joys of blogging.
