If you read it there already, click on, friend. More tomorrow.
I meant well.
But every writer who writes without an editor (blogging! wheeeeee!) inevitably, eventually screws up. Then the dilemma becomes: ignore it, edit it, or laugh.
Now, I wrote from the heart yesterday — that vulnerable place where we mamas are constantly trying to find our way toward being enough — and I’m not poking fun at that true, deep, exposed part of my soul.
Here’s the sitch…
I didn’t expect to get any maturity points following yesterday’s How to Decorate for Fall post, especially after I deleted the line that read “decorating with pumpkins is cheap and easy” because I was completely unable stop giggling or writing about what ELSE might be cheap and easy. (i.e. Me after Greg gathers and sorts ALL of the school supplies for FIVE KIDS. Or me after Greg scrubs the stove. Or me after Greg cleans our room. You know, hypothetically speaking. But *right*?)
Now, I’m not generally opposed to talking about cheap-and-easy; it just wasn’t in keeping with the reflective tone of the post. And I’m not opposed to gaining maturity points for deleting cheap-and-easy, either, but maturity points are tricky business, folks and you don’t typically get them by tooting your own horn.
You see my quandary, right?
- Giggling at cheap-and-easy = no maturity points
- Writing about cheap-and-easy = no maturity points
- Deleting cheap-and-easy with no one to tell you what a great job I did and hand me some maturity points = no maturity points
But then I got this message from a good friend…
You talked about decorating with ‘young-boy wind’ and I honestly thought you were going to talk about decorating with flatulence.
I’m kinda sorry you didn’t.
And I realized I didn’t even THINK about the gas-passing implication of writing about young-boy wind. (Seriously? I didn’t?) Seriously. I didn’t.
You guys, that’s AT LEAST 5 maturity points for me! And I know I lose a couple of those points for noting how mature I was, but I passed on mentioning cheap, easy AND farting!
THAT’S THREE NET MATURITY POINTS FOR ME!
In conclusion, I win at maturity.
Also, my house is TOTALLY decorated with flatulence.
P.S. If you feel compelled to, oh, say, confess a time when you unintentionally said or did something embarrassing in public… let’s just say there’s a sympathetic reader here who will listen to your confession with minimal laughter. I swear.