Finally Friday!

It's been a wild week of Britney watching, tornado ducking, and of course…no snow.

I know you're dying for an update, so I wanted to let you know that I've made no progress in my yoga and my quest to balance myself on my elbows while upside down. But I bet when I get there, I can also do this:

But apparently roller skating under cars is much like yoga–you have to practice. And that's not my strength. Just ask my mom, who paid for five years of piano lessons. (But I do play a mean Mary Had a Little Lamb.)

You know in teaching, we often don't get the old parental support. A lot of people like to believe they have the perfect child (you don't). That their angel wouldn't do anything wrong (he would). And that it's all my fault (Actually I'm the one who's perfect). We love, love, love our parents who believe in discipline and accountability. I think I would really like the mom from Iowa who recently took out this ad after she found alcohol in her son's car.

OLDS 1999 Intrigue. Totally uncool parents who obviously don't love teenage son, selling his car. Only driven for three weeks before snoopy mom who needs to get a life found booze under front seat. $3,700/offer. Call meanest mom on the planet.

Another reason to love her? She makes her son drive a '99 Oldsmobile. Not only does mom believe in discipline, but she believes in humility. Your first car should always be an old, outdated piece. You haven't lived until the ___________ (insert automotive technical term here) goes out on your car that Chevy no longer makes and you're doing 35 miles an hour on the interstate in falling snow, and with the remaining life your car has, you pull over to the truck stop on top of a mountain and wait for your mother, who's over an hour away and also doesn't drive in snow, to come and get you. That builds character! (And it could've built a healthy smoking habit, but I resisted.) My car, Poopster, gave me lots of memories. And lots of repair bills. Some of her problems I fixed myself. Like I fixed the radio, which I found wouldn't work unless you stuck an eye glass holder up in the back of it. And the many times I locked myself out of the car? No problem, I could just crawl into the back hatch (which couldn't lock for mysterious and unexplainable reasons) and over the seats.
The Poopster and I went to high school and college together, and she taught me all about faith. Because every morning the only thing that started her was prayer. And promises to never give her up.
Obviously one of us was a liar.

Have a great weekend.

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