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Its been two complete weeks since Mamaboe.com’s inception, and in that time alone, the page has received nearly 6,000 views.

That is about 5,999 more than I ever expected.

I am astounded, and a little dismayed at the interest in my drivel.  Who would ever have thunk that my indirect, twisted thought process would be understood, let alone entertaining.  I mean, I know I have been a source of amusement to my family, but they have to be kind to me.  You guys could have just walked away…before it was too late.  You could have saved yourselves.  Think of all the time you spent reading my thoughts….and you can never ever have that time back.

I weep for you at the thought of it.

I am only human.  I can’t say that I remain modest and humble in the face of such unexpected success.   I’ll even admit that maybe my head got a little bigger than it should have.  I mean, if you look at it really, it’s not like I’m out there saving lives or doing anything remotely socially redeeming.  I’m just doing what comes naturally:  Spouting off every thought that comes….as it comes.   Without any forethought or afterthought.

Much like a toddler.

Come to think of it, you really shouldn’t let your kids read my blog.  We don’t want them to think it’s ok to be like me.  In fact, tell them not to be like me, but rather to strive for some kind of socially redeeming purpose in life.

Kids who have ignored their parent’s direction and are reading this blog anyways:  Do NOT be like me.  And if you ignore this warning, this is what most likely will happen to you:

So I’m in CVS in Poolesville, wearing what I had thrown on this morning to get the kids fed their scrambled eggs and cheese (heavy on the cheese) and off to school, with hair that had only dreams of being brushed, when a woman I have never seen before approached me.  She asked me if I was the writer behind Mamaboe.com.   Suspiciously I asked her if I was, would it be a good thing?  She began gushing – gushing – about how she has enjoyed reading my essays, and how she starts and ends her days reading them.  She thanked me for having the courage to write and put it out there for anyone and everyone to see.  She asked me if I had ever considered writing a book.

I am ashamed to tell you how fast my ego jacked up.  Fast and, not huge…. but gargantuous. I’m surprised I didn’t lose my balance due to the enormity of my head.  As she went on and on about it, I began thinking, “Wow.  I am that good.  I am courageous.  I am talented.  I am funny as hell.  I AM all that, and the bag of freaking chips.  I SHOULD write a book.”

I admit it, I was rather bloated.  Usually that has to do with my weight, (especially after a night of binge-eating Lo Mein), but in this particular case it was due to flattery that I was not expecting and not prepared to take with a grain of salt.

I barely had it in me to deign to thank her before I left her to go check out.   I mean, it’s not like I have time to talk to just anyone.

As the cashier was ringing me up, I wondered if she read my blog too.  And did she love me too?  And did she realize that here I was in the flesh for goodness sake?  Did she feel lucky?

I saw her looking at me for a moment as if she wanted to say something.  I could tell she really wanted to.  My head grew even larger.  I didn’t want to disappoint, so I opened the door for her.

“How are you?” I asked, in my most condescending tone.

“Uh, fine.” she answered.  “I don’t mean to be rude, but uh, you’ve got a little something on your shirt….uh…right on your…uh…”

I looked down.  There on my shirt at the exact spot of my left nipple was a piece of scrambled egg with cheese.  Not a small one, either.  And under it was a sizeable grease spot.

“I’m only telling you because I would want someone to tell me, and I know how embarrassing that can be.” She added, sympathetically.

With as much dignity as I could muster, I plucked the morsel from my breast, and popped it in my mouth.  Grease spot, I could do nothing about, but walk back to my car with one hand on my boob.

Ego Deflation:  Complete.

So I’m back to my normal sheepishly fallible self.  And I know I have at least one reader who will never look at my blog picture again without seeing egg-and-cheese boob.

It’s good to be back.

Did you miss me?