You know I've been a little down this week--back from vacation, facing work issues, my baby starting high school, the other two gathering cardboard boxes to pack for college--these events plus more have dragged me down, not terribly, but just, you know, down.
Until I opened one "encouraging" piece of mail.
An invitation. Not to a Mary Kay party or Silpada party or to enter a sweepstakes--this is better.
The letter went something like this:
Congratulations! Someone has nominated you to enter the "Miss Golden Royal America" pageant! Please come to (Indianapolis hotel lobby on such and such a date) to register. And if you have any friends between the ages of 10-19, please feel free to bring them, also!"
But aside from the "ick" factor, the humor of this invitation was not lost on me, and most ceratinly not lost on my 20 year-old daughter. (Can you imagine your mother opening such an invitation in front of you? Would you be able NOT to comment or laugh? I didn't think so.)
Which made me blurt out to her, "Oh, you laugh, but I know you're just jealous that no one wants you to be the next 'Miss Golden-Oldie Royal-Pain American Office Assistant of Nearly Empty-Nested Blogger Moms.'" "Of the Psoriatic Support Groups, USA." And then she completely lost it.
So that got me to thinking: "Is there a pageant for sad, chubby, tired 40-something moms out there? And if there is, how can I dominate/hi-jack it and take home the trophy I so totally deserve?"
If the categories were scored according to:
1. Level of tiredness I would say I'd score 78%
2. Level of chubbiness I would say I'd score 28%
3. Level of sadness I would say I'd score 10%
Therefore, since I scored an impressive 116 out of 100, I clearly deserve a trophy, or preferably a 5 lb. bag of Peanut M & M's.
The only other pageant whose title I think I might take would be one where the women from my childhood church went off on a island somewhere and had their own colony. If Opal and Lois and Letha and Reeva and Jewel (not the singer) were there, I might find favor, because comparatively speaking, I'd be full of energy, slender and joyful. I could be their "Miss Casserole Carry-In" or something like that. This possibility deserves some serious Googling for such opportunities. Don't go getting any ideas about competing, either, cuz I obviously still got it, Baby.