I read an article where Barbara Walters asked Rachel Campos-Duffy, “Did you ever think, ‘I wish I had a career and I didn’t have six kids?’ “
My first reaction was, I bet she never asked a man that question.
But then I thought about how I would reply if she had asked me, so here’s our imaginary conversation:
BW: Tilly, did you ever think, ‘I wish I had a career and I didn’t have two kids’?
Isn’t it nice when you can look back on your life and know that you got something right?*
*You might want to ask my kids to corroborate that statement for you.
This was first posted two years ago. My feelings haven’t changed.
In another post of two years ago, I was feeling outraged:
In a list of best Christmas movies, The Muppet Christmas Carol came only twenty-third. Twenty-third!
I don’t know what muppet compiled the list, but Tory Boy, Spud and I are grievously insulted that the best version EVER of A Christmas Carol came so low on the list. The Hubrooge thought it came in too high, of course; but his opinion has never counted in our house and it’s not going to start now.
I say that Tory Boy and Spud were outraged, but I never actually told them; I was afraid of their wrath. The boys and I love The Muppet Christmas Carol and watching it is one of our family traditions in the run up to Christmas. Now Tory Boy has left home, Spud and I have to wait until he’s here: watching it together is set in stone.
We confine the Hub to his room while we singalong to One More Sleep ‘Til Christmas. The song about Scrooge is another favourite, though the Hub doesn’t get it. How can he not love a song that boasts the line ‘No cheeses for us meeces’?