Monday, March 12, 2012


I know I'm getting my life back together again after the birth of a baby when I have a desire to clean while listening to disco. Most people hate disco, but give me a little "Shake, Shake, Shake (Shake Your Booty)" and I'm happy.

So the other day the kids and I were doing our Saturday jobs (my main one is to STAY ON THEIR CASES so that they finish theirs--it works beautifully, because it can be done while feeding the baby too--MULTITASKING!). We were dancing and cleaning and shaking, and I was attempting to explain the 70s to them. Well, this was more difficult than I'd bargained for because my American History classes never actually covered modern history. We always ran out of time and stopped like in the 1920s. So while I was racking my brain for all the things I know about the 70s (I was born in 1976, but I was hardly taking in the political landscape at the time), I was silently cursing my American History teacher. How often am I going to be called upon to discuss the intricacies of the Teapot Dome scandal? Never. The 70s? Just missed a golden opportunity. Anyhow, I was all like, "Yeah, there were like some oil problems, and Jimmy Carter, and Gerald Ford, and . . ."

And then.

Seriously out of nowhere, Rhett came running through the front room fully naked, and yelled, "STREAKER!"

So, at least they know that about the 70s. The important stuff has been covered. (Not in Rhett's case, but you know, history-wise).

What else could I add after that?