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I’m A Rock Star!

I completely understand how Michael Jackson feels; I too have adoring fans that just won’t leave me alone. Motherhood has made me a rock star! It’s a good thing my stage name, “Mommy” rolls off the lips and doesn’t require much enunciation, because my fans call my name ALL DAY LONG and all through the night. They can say it their sleep. They can say it even before they can speak!

My fans follow me everywhere. Michael’s fans may follow him from city to city but my fans follow me from room to room! Sometimes they trip me up as they anticipate my next step. They track my location, they sniff me out, they call me on my cell phone. They insist that I come home, or stop cooking, or “pick me up”, “let me in”, or “play with me”…they adore me! AARRRGH!

Even though I only have 5, they are everywhere! I can’t escape them. Sometimes I’ll step out the bathroom and find a group of the younger ones standing there at the door clapping and cheering. A couple of the older ones are sprawled across my bed waiting to pounce on me for conversation. They just love being in my presence!

Unlike Michael Jackson, I do things for my fans that he would never do for his: I chauffer them around. I pick their boogers. I buy them things. I wipe their butts. I fix their meals.

Wait, am I a rock star or an enslaved mom?
I’m a Rock Star, baby! A R-O-C-K ST-R!!
Tito, get me some water. Oh, you can’t reach it? Then I’ll get it. (sigh)

Most stars are wearing clothes created by someone else. I wear a style all my own. In the morning I do a quick wash up and pull sweats over my satin p.j.s. FUNKY FRESH BABY! No time for a shower the fans are already up and demanding to see me. They just love me!

Most stars panic at the thought of being caught at the grocery store. I panic at the thought of TRYING to go to the grocery store. My fans can’t handle seeing me…in shoes and a coat. OMG! The crowd goes wild! I can totally relate to MJ. My fans scream and cry and pull at their hair! They snatch at my clothes and pull on my legs…they can’t live without me.
My bodyguard-Big Daddy-tries to hold back the crowd or he’ll help me slip out the side door, but he’s really no match for their obsessive love. Just to keep control of the Uncontrollables he throws cookies into the crowd and entertains them until I return. Some days when I leave he looks like he’s going to cry to.
Yeah, I think he’s falling for this rock star. I may have to fire him if he can’t handle his emotions.
If there are any other funky fresh, rock star moms out there hollar at me!
Tito where are my sunglasses?

To Our Mutual Success, Lady T



One Comment
  • BBC
    February 4, 2009 at 9:22 am

    LOL “I only have 5” – Only??? You are definitely a rock star! Rock on!

    Reply

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