anywho, at my house 'why wait' took on a brand new meaning this evening. after a perfectly bbq'd turkey burger and some doritos (aaaand one, maybe two glasses of wine), i had a moment.
what were the dang moves from my high school fight song?
let's just get it out there. i was a cheerleader. shocking, i know. usually it's those perky types and i'm so completely calm and rational all the time. well, SURPRISE!
anyway, in my tank top and shorts, in our living room, in 90 degrees and the sticky Seattle humidity, i try and bust the Mt. View HS fight song i danced o'er and o'er again some *ahem* several years ago. complete fail.
and as i look over my shoulder to see if my 3 year-old daughter is *please, GOD* missing the spectacle, i realize she isn't. in fact, she has completely lost interest in the Lion King that's showing on the big TV for pizza and movie night, and is staring at my sorry 34 year-old-ness wondering how-the-what she ended up with a mom like *this* raising her at home every day.
is she qualified for this job? seriously, good question. goooood question.
and instead of shrinking down and doing some baking or housecleaning or something motherly and worthwhile to redeem myself, you know what i realized? why should i wait for my kids to be double-digits before embarrassing the bleep out of them? bwahaha...
MENU OF BRILLIANT MOMENTS OF CLARITY FOLLOWING EPIPHANY
- embarrass often.
- embarrass as much as possible.
- when at home, feel free to embarrass yourself as well, as long as no one is filming.
- dancing the Roger Rabbit to Ne-Yo is completely acceptable behavior.
- embarrass a lot.
- a little woop woop! is most certainly called for if/when you land the round-off (and, by the way, 'sort-of' sticking it totally counts when you're 34.)
- and...if you don't land, bouncing back and doing a double 'ta da!' like the gymnasts do in the olympics is absolutely called for, regardless of what your husband says.
- visiting www.travelocity.com in the evening will yield abundant search results to areas such as Fiji, Aruba and San Juan de somethingorother.
so why wait? there is no promise of tomorrow.