I recently sent my in-laws a joyous introduction to Suburban Jungle. They were not aware of the blog till my husband threw me under the bus proudly alerted them of its existence. Our conversation went something like this:
Mother in Law: “Oh Jenny, Mark says you’ve been busy blogging… Did you start a blog?”
Me: (Mark, why can we never be on the same team?) “A blog well… yeah it’s just like recipes and stuff. Nothing exciting.”
MIL: “Oh, is your Mother’s brisket on there?”
Me: “No not like yummy recipes (Where do I go from here? Crappy recipes?) No it’s barely edible kid stuff like homemade play dough and how to grow rock candy.” (Good save!) Nothing you would want to cook.”
MIL: “Well Mark told us it was a humor column and he asked what we thought of it, but we said you never sent it to us.” (FOILED AGAIN. Thanks Mark).
Me: (surprised) “Oh… thaaat blog, well here’s the thing. I would be happy to send it to you but you must take the same oath I gave my parents.”
In-Laws: Silence
Me: “If I tell you that I don’t want you to read certain ones you can’t read them.”
In-Laws: Crickets
Me: “Look I love your son, but this is not a queer love blog. The love I feel for Mark is just not funny, not even a little bit. However, the shit he does or doesn’t do around the house really is. The fact that he still does not know where I keep the tool box or the plates is funny.” (Well it’s not funny when I’m yelling at him about it, but it may be to someone reading it.) I don’t want you to read stuff and call and ask if things are okay, or if we’re getting along. I want to be able to call your son a (insert punitive expletive here) with reckless abandon.”
MIL: Did you just call our son a punitive expletive?
Me: “Okay, let’s try another approach. What if I write something about our sex life? I don’t want you trying new positions and saying things like ‘Well Jenny and Mark like it.’ “
FIL: “We’d love to read about your sex life… we need a good laugh.”
Me: (Swallowing back vomit) “Funny… Listen, I didn’t want it to come to this, but clearly it has. The truth is we’re par-ti-ers. I know when you baby-sit we leave for dinner at 8, we’re back by 9, and by 9:30 Mark is fast asleep while you’re watching me put the kids to bed. But that’s because our morning life is insane.
At 4:30AM, an hour before “Crazy Mark” leaves for work we start shooting up. Then we do rails off the Pack N’ Play and our neighbors slip in the back door for a Morgy, (morning orgy). Then they sneak out and our day starts like everyone else’s, except we’re hopped up on coke. I would never want you guys to read about that stuff. That’s why I am posting a rating NPG (No Parental Guidance) on any explicit posts.
If you read it I will catch you. Your ways are not so wily. Like when you guys audibly whisper on the couch when I am 5 feet away.
Welcome to the jungle its wild in here. Well in your case tame, ‘cause you won’t be able to read the really scintillating stuff, but enjoy the other crap!