This Morning's Epiphany

There was this time about, oh, 4 or 5 years ago back when we were living in Iowa--Go was teaching Sunday School and for some reason, and I swear it had to do something with the lesson because Go is quite a good teacher/public speaker, he, without thinking obviously, publicly divulged a secret of mine I had been hording from the good people of our Iowa ward: that I was addicted to the show COPS and had been for years. When he said this, he waited just a beat, letting his words sink into the skulls of his audience, just like any good public speaker does when letting out juicy information about their spouse, I guess...

An eerie silence passed over the small congregation. All eyes turned to me, stunned and wide. And then collectively, everyone's brain waves joined together and somewhere from another dimension, out of the atmosphere, Dueling Banjos began playing, my metal folding chair turned into a mildewy lawn-couch, my tasteful Banana Republic tweed brown skirt turned into greasy-stained jean short cut-offs and suddenly, I was holding an economy sized bag of Cheet-os in one hand and the leash of a three legged blind dog in the other. I felt stripped of my dignity. How dare he divulge my inner white trashiness? The nerve! Needless to say, we had words after class.

But here's what blogging for almost three years does to you: you announce to the general population that you just dug through your disgusting, gross trash and that your baby's car seat has had mouse poop in it. So much for inner white trash.

Blogger, what have you done to me?

P.S. - I still really like COPS. And I always will.