September’s Dead Rubber Post by the BOF
Her eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. She pauses. “You’re going to put this in your blog, aren’t you?” she asks.
Confounded psychic prodigy. How does she know what I’m thinking?
I’m a little concerned that we are starting to live to the blog.
Teachers (some) teach to the test. Bloggers (and their families) live to the blog.
Crash has started texting pictures to me with the suggestion that they be included in the blog. Dimples is making farting sounds in the hopes of becoming blog-worthy. And I am mentally narrating blog posts in my head even as I do the most mundane activities. I can’t wait to regale the Blogosphere with the story of cleaning out my purse.
One sign that I am hopelessly obsessed with blog topics is my feeling of disappointment when I arrive home and Wonderbutt has not wreaked new havoc during my absence. Now what am I supposed to write about?
Cap’n Firepants is conspicuously trying NOT to be included in the blog. Well aware that excellent behavior makes for a very boring post, he has been the model of a perfect husband for the last week. Guess I’m just gonna have to start making stuff up. He doesn’t read it anyway.
Since I kind of want to keep our lives authentic (for the time being, at least), I’ve decided to give myself permission once a month to publish a not so engaging post. I’m kind of setting myself up for the rest of the month by doing it on the first day, but I’m getting a little desperate. The upside is that you can’t point out all of the other unplanned boring posts from this month because I haven’t done any.
I’m calling it “Dead Rubber” because that is slang for boring, according to the online slang dictionary.
And BOF is Boring Old Fart. So, I have completed my little circle by beginning and ending with the same topic. Bathroom humor. The lazy comedian’s guarantee to make someone grudgingly smile. Yay me!
Just in case this post puts you off, I want to leave you in a little suspense by saying that tomorrow I’m going to make a Big Announcement in my post. And I promise it has nothing to do with passing gas.