A few months ago, I received this DELIGHTFUL email to my Facebook inbox:
A lovely, lovely blogger who is very pretty and has firm thighs emailed to tell me that she LOVED my Facebook shenanigans and that she’d be sharing my name and blog on her Facebook page.
She said she does a big “Pimp A Page” event on Fridays where she forces her fans to go like other pages and demands they share mad blog love ’round Facebookland. She emailed that she wanted to give me the heads up because her fans are super loyal and they do what she says. Because she has firm thighs and she is pretty. And because her fans know she knows funny bloggers when she sees them.
I have a *slight* admission to make here: Uhm, I hadn’t been following her page or HER Facebook shenanigans because, uh, I didn’t know her. Or her blog.
She caught me completely by surprise. And I was overwhelmed at her willingness to open her blog, Facebook page and other social media to promote another blogger. Note: she did NOT open her firm thighs. This a family blog, people…
Her name is Traci and it turns out, her blog, A Day in the Life of a Drama Queen’s Momma, is HILARIOUS. After much Twitter review, Facebook stalking and catch up reading, I have found her stories about life with her four kids, THREE of which are Drama Queens, to be among the funniest on the interwebs. She is funny, she is pretty, her thighs could crush walnuts (I’m all about the flattery, clearly).
The day I was the recipient of her mad pimping skills, I had over 300 new people “Like” my Facebook page and MAJOR traffic to my blog…..300 new victims for me to assault with my musings on my Fruit Loops. So, if you are reading this because you found me through her, it’s HER FAULT that you want cereal every time you read my blog name. Ahem.
Because it’s inappropriate to rub my face in her boobs to say thank you, I offered to let her guest post as a virtual chestical bump for her blogger goodwill. She willingly accepted and sent me a post entitled “All Aboard The Hoo Hoo Express” and it’s just one snippet of the hilarity that goes on in her neck of the woods.
Read it, laugh at it and then go tell her on Facebook that she’s pretty, she has firm thighs and you are a new fan. Because flattery will get you everywhere….did I mention she has firm thighs?
All aboard the Hoo Hoo Express!
By A Day in the Life of a Drama Queen’s Momma
As any of you who follow my blog on Facebook know, my 4 year old daughter, Brennan, is OBSESSED with 2 things:
Boobs and Babies.
Pretty much daily, she climbs up into my lap, lays her head on my “pillows” (this is where the boobs first come into play), and rubs my fat “baby” tummy. Minus the baby. (Cuz this mom is D-O-N-E, done!) It is during these precious moments that the baby badgering begins. “Why is your tummy so fat? Is there a bay-bay in there?” Followed by “Well WHY isn’t there a baby in there? I really WANT a baby to be in there!” And on my luckiest days, she stops there.
I don’t get lucky very often (I am married after all).
When I can’t quench her insatiable thirst for a younger sibling THAT way, she starts in on a new angle… “When I was a baby, I drank milk from your boobies!” She says with a giggle. “Why do boobies have milk ONLY for babies?” (She asks this because she previously was told that the Milk Express has permanently left the station and will NOT return without the birth of another baby. And I am pretty darn sure that she is itchin’ for a big swig of good old fashioned boob juice). “Maybe you should have a baby so we can get more milk!”
Emphasis on the “we” proves my earlier point.
Then the crazy boob rubbing and talking comes in. “Oh boobies! I love you so much! You are so boob-e-full! (giggle). Who is my booby, booby?!!” This lasts several minutes and is quite uncomfortable (for both me AND the boob-e-full boobies), until I finally say “THAT’S ENOUGH” and physically remove her hands and try (usually unsuccessfully) to change the topic.
All that usually does is kick the stubborn drama-queen into full gear, and I get the “Well I didn’t ASK to be the LAST baby! You had 3 (fingers up to prove her point) other babies before me and I don’t want to be the littlest.” No luck? She pulls out the cuddly soft side with “God puts the babies in there.” matter-of-factly stated. Ooooh no… I know what she is REALLY saying: “Haha woman! I get the last laugh. You have ZERO say in whether another baby gets put in that sucker! I will just pray every night for a baby. And you will be SCREWED!”
When those questions get her nowhere, she puts the REAL baby questions into play! Sticking her finger into my belly button, she asks, “Is THIS where babies come out of?” “No”, I tell her, “That is where babies get hooked inside their momma’s tummies. Then after you are born, a doctor snips your umbilical chord off and you get a belly button in its place.” Hmmm. This always makes her ponder for a minute or two before she starts getting deeper and MUCH more persistent. “Where do they COME OUT OF then?”
Well, after several hmms and haws over THAT beaut of a question, the hubs had finally had enough. So the last time she asked, he stated, loudly and with hand gestures that I really wish I could emulate in writing, “They come from your VA-GI-NA!”
Cue hysterical giggles.
No seriously. That is what that statement did. She was uncontrollable! “Daddy is SILL-AY! Huh, momma?! That isn’t where BABIES come out of!” “Oh yes it is”, the hubs counters. “Babies come straight out the Hoo Hoo Express” Still giggling, she looks at her dad, then looks at me, to see me nodding my head in solemn (well, as solemn as I could muster after hearing the term “Hoo Hoo Express” come out of my husband’s mouth) agreement.
Huh. “Can I watch a movie?”, she asks. Whew! Maybe, just maybe, the hubs has shut her up on the baby makin’ questions!
Naw… She will be back at it again tomorrow. I’m sure. This girl sure is stubborn. I wonder where she gets it from?