“Today, we served spaghetti with meatballs. Lauren may have choked a little bit when eating a meatball but she’s fine now. As for the dinner, it was actually really good. I’ll have to remember to use homegrown tomatoes for the sauce.” If my mother had a blog, that’s definitely something I could picture my mother blogging about. Me? Sure, why not? My whole family could blog about me if they wanted. There’s a running joke in my family that we deserve our own reality show since we are always busy and usually get caught up in some ridiculous situations.
For example, there was one evening where we challenged each other to recite the Star Spangled Banner and my sister and I kept messing up at one line. So, as a family, we sang the entire national anthem until we fixed the mistake. There was no particular reason we needed to do this, but we did it anyway and I feel like that would be an awesome story to blog about (especially if you’re feeling really patriotic).
Or, another story better told from my parent’s perspective, the time when my sister and I visited an alligator farm in St. Augustine, My sister and I had seen plenty of alligators before then (since we lived next to Okefenokee Swamp) so the trip wasn’t anything too special. What we didn’t know, however, was that my father was helping Dr. Kent Vliet (world renowned crocodilian) run some tests on the alligators. As my mother guided us to the alligator viewing area, we spotted my father and a bunch of other people standing in the murky waters below. Just as we walked up, one of guys launched on top of an alligator and began wrapping its mouth duct tape. At the same time, another man jumped on its tail and held it down. After someone gave the alligator a shot, my father stepped up and did something I’d rather not type.
“What’s he doing, mommy?” I turned to my mother whose mouth was wide open in shock. I looked back at the battle below, confused. “Um, well...your father is helping a very important doctor with some tests.”
“What type of tests?”
Well, er, right now they’re checking the gender of each alligator in the swamp.”
My brain finally made the connection.
“oh...OH!” I quickly looked away from the scene below.
“What does that mean?” My innocent sister asked.
“Um, no. Maybe another day.”
My mother quickly escorted us away from the alligators and never quite explained what had just happened until a couple years later.
All I’m trying to say is that having my family write a blog about my life and all the stories we’ve collected as a family wouldn’t be a bad thing. In fact, I would love to hear my mother’s perspective during the alligator farm incident. Heck, I’m sure my father’s side of the story was equally exciting. The key thing about this hypothetical blog is that we wouldn’t forget. These memories would be remembered and easy to access. Even the incidents that weren’t quite so happy, we could look back and learn from our mistakes or simply reminisce about past times. So, if my family started a blog about me, I would embrace it. Plus, they’d have at least one reader for life.
