Monday, December 09, 2013

Kevans mom has got it going on...

Last week, my Navy Manchild let me know that he'd sent the link to this blog to some of his friends.

Oooh boy!  New demographics!

Hello youngsters.  Welcome!  I'm glad you've taken a moment away from gaming and the Myspaces and the Twitters and the Pr0n to show up here. 

(I remember when you had to sneak that stuff out of a mildewing box in the basement of a friend of a friend's house.  When you were grossed out, or someone yelled down the stairs at you,  you were careful to put it back just exactly how you found it.)

So...my kid...I grew him with my body and stuff.  He is the cause of most of my stretch marks.  He's the lucky firstborn that had his birth video taped for posterity.  Do those cheapo VHS transfer thingies work?  I'm considering digitizing that particular home movie to keep the memory alive and maybe post it for a source of YouTube income.  Right now the tape is up in the attic generating no money at all and that's just a shame.

There is also a VHS copy of Richard Simmons Sweatin' to the Oldies in that box.  Better not find any of you sneaking into my attic with a VCR.  That's a disgusting habit.



At this point in the post you might have expected that I would be telling a few embarrassing stories about my son's growing up years.  As much as I'm tempted, I'm not going to.  He can tell his own embarrassing stories.  Extra points if he can tell them in 140 characters or less #underpants #feminine hygiene products aren't bandaids #swearing in front of grandma.

Instead, have one of mine. 

It's G rated!

Really...

Read it anyway.

Then you can go back to playing Farmville, or whatever it is you do on the internets.

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