These days, you can’t seem to throw an extra comma into a sentence without hitting the well meaning advice of others. For example, I personally like to serve my children dinner while twirling a baton, but, I bet there are some anti-baton twirling parents out there just waiting, in my bushes, or in the pile of dried wipes and coffee cups on the floor of my van, to jump up and tell me that batons have been known to cause concussions. Well sure, but, if you haven’t caused a concussion, clearly you didn’t throw the baton high enough. Attempting a grilled cheese plating and quadruple spin is tricky even with acoustic ceilings. If you miss the catch and no concussion occurs, you have some work to do on your power throws. Rookies.
In the eyes of the tsk-tskers, I am the Miss Hannigan to their Donna Reed. I hate to burst anyone’s bubble, but, even donning my best Miss Hannigan boa and compression knee highs, I can’t pull off the bathtub gin. I don’t have a bathtub. It makes my accurate depiction nearly impossible. I’m doing the best I can. Those are big shoes to fill.
I imagine that even if I opted to find another outlet that provided release and relaxation, there would be no way to please everyone. And, if you can not please everyone, you should strive to make several people unimaginably and unreasonably offended for no valid reason. In this way, I am a huge success. Mission accomplished.