Sarah Bellum's Tales of Wit and Charm

This week’s “That’s What She Said” talks about the movie “My Sister’s Keeper” and friends who cry… A LOT!

A friend of mine shared her biggest fear with me the other night. She’s not terrified of mice like I am, or even crow’s feet like the rest of women. Nope. She’s afraid of getting stuck somewhere and not having anyone around to help her.

I live alone with a pug. Daisy has one freaking eye so it’s not like she’s Lassie. If I got stuck and couldn’t reach my phone I’d be a goner. And just like that getting stuck is now one of my fears.

I voiced this fear to another friend who reminded me I have a zillion brothers that would find and save me. Hardly. Those boys are lazy asses. They’d take my silence as their own personal vacation. After thinking about the problem for a few minutes I realized I wouldn’t ever get stuck in my apartment and die. I could easily use the gay husband signal as a beacon to alert RLO that I needed to be saved. Super RLO looks hot in tights, plus he’s a biker so super comfy in spandex.

I’m going to practice the method by getting stuck on my way to the pub. It’s really the best way to get some quality BFF time in. Plus I’m really hungry for a good pub dinner.

“Your brother read me the blog about the dead cat, and then he buried it for a second time.”

“MOM! I don’t want to know this.”

“Fine, I won’t talk about it, but just know that it’s not on the front lawn anymore. Also, honey, don’t write about this on your blog tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want people thinking we are weird.”

“Mom, I think it’s a little late for that. We are weird. And adorable, so it’s OK.”

Last year I wanted to attend BlogHer, but didn’t. I was so worried I wouldn’t fit in. I’m not a mommy blogger and many of the sessions were parental themed because lots of attendees are moms.

What if we have nothing in common? Yeah, I’m an idiot like that. I have a lot of things in common with them. We all have a vagina and blogs for example.

This year I ignored all my fears and decided to go. Plus I finally found a silver lining to hanging out all weekend with thousands of moms. Are you ready for this? Moms are flask insurance.

Huh?

It’s brilliant really. Every mom I know has a bottle, or sippy cup somewhere in the bottom of a purse. Bingo! Sippy cup o’ vodka: it’s the must have drink for this year’s conference. The first thing I’m going to do when I arrive Thursday is beg my mommy roomies, Loralee and Sandi, to let me dig through their purses.

Now, whose purse has the vodka? Seriously, WHO? I want to meet you.

Actually I want to meet everyone, but vodka purses have priority. That’s the kind of bag that takes the edge off, which I’ll need because large crowds freak me out.

“Sarah, I think there’s a dead cat in the front yard.”

“Gross, Mom, why did you call to tell me this?”

“Because I just saw it.”

“That doesn’t mean I need to hear about it! Besides, I’m two hours away from you. I’m not sure what I can do to help.”

“I think maybe the dog did it, but I’m not positive.”

“Is there hard evidence it was the dog?”

“No, so it could have been the neighbor’s dog.”

“Mom, this is starting to sound like a country Clue board game and is sort of freaking me out.”

I still don’t understand the need for a dead cat phone call, but I’m grateful for every phone conversation I have with my mom.

I absolutely adore her.

So much that I would drive the two hours to her house just to clean up an animal carcass from her lawn. Actually I’d take it a step further: I love my mom enough that I’d call one of my brothers and have them take care of it. True love means loving my mom enough to not emotionally scar her only daughter.