Oh, how I love twitter.  Did you know that my guest poster, Erin, from the other day, I “met” her over twitter?  And now here is Maria from Mommy Melee, I found her over twitter, too.  And today, she’s guest posting for me.  (I know, I’m the luckiest girl EVER, I realize this, I swear.)  She’s fantastically witty and a wonderful writer. I hope you hop over to her blog and subscribe.  You won’t be disappointed.

Enjoy.  And thanks, Maria!

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Heard of the Muppets?  Here’s a little-known-fact:  I’m actually like a quarter Muppet.  You can tell by the fact that I’m incapable of posing for a happy picture without opening my mouth like I’m going to eat the camera.  Also, I flail.  And bounce.  And I randomly burst into a guttural voice so often that my three-year-old already does the same thing.

Thanks to my Muppet lineage, I have a heightened ability to laugh at my life.  This helps when I’m dealing with situations like:

•    Having a doctor spontaneously teach an entire room full of medical students how to do a pelvic exam using my pelvis.
•    My son calling a huge man wearing a bandana “LOOK, A PIRATE!” at the grocery store.
•    Calling and freaking out to a host at a restaurant only find out 45 minutes later that the host was actually the owner and head chef.
•    My son pooping his pants at the playground twice in two weeks.

Or this one:

Last Friday my husband spontaneously asked me out on a dinner/dancing date. (Years ago, before we had kids, my husband and I went out dancing every Friday night.)  He asked me at quarter of seven, so I scrambled to find a babysitter, took a “shower” with a wet washcloth, and downed a bunch of caffeine to try to ward off the sort of headache you get when your three-year-old wakes up from his nap covered in pee and screaming about “DON’T LOOK AT ME I DON’T WANT TO TALK TO YOU.”

We made it out the door just before 9 pm.  I had one drink at dinner, and another at the club upstairs.  Since he was driving, my husband only had one drink.  He’s 6’3” and isn’t really affected by one drink.  Me?  After a light lunch and a late dinner, I was buzzing all over one two drinks.

Which resulted in fascinating conversations at the fancy pants dance club where we were people watching.  And by fascinating I mean that I was driving my husband crazy.  (Though I think he half-deserved it for refusing to actually dance with me after getting me liquored up.)

Husband:  I hate Britney Spears.

Drunk!Yelling!Muppet!Wife: But think about it! Think about how much money motivates any of us!  What if you were just SIXTEEN YEARS OLD and someone offered you MILLIONS OF DOLLARS!  BRITNEY SPEARS IS A VICTIM! And she’s cute so shut up!  She’s trying to be a good mom but the media won’t leave her alone!  DIDN’T YOU WATCH THE DOCUMENTARY ON MTV?  Her boys are so cute. Don’t be heartless, I can’t imagine all that money—you’d just do whatever people told you to do.  And she’s a good dancer!  DUDE THIS VIDEO HAS A WHOLE CIRCUS THING AND SHE’S DANCING IN FRONT OF FIREWORKS.  AND SHE’S HOT.

Husband:  You’re right.  I love Britney Spears now.

Drunk!Wibbly!Muppet!Wife:  Why are you being mean to me?

Husband:

Drunk!Distracted!Muppet!Wife: Oh my God look at the ceiling, it’s like we’re in a giant whale.  Like on Finding Nemo!  I love it when Dori speaks whale.  Juuuuuuuassssssssstttttt leeeeeeeettttttttttt gggggggggggggggggggoooooooo—

Husband:  We’re going home.