In the basement

by Fiddledeedee on March 11, 2014

A friend of mine was brainstorming about how I could post some of the goings on around here without owing the teenager and the tween a fortune.  Because OH DEAR LORD, ALL THE HORMONES (including my own menopausal angst).  If you’ll recall, my days of run-on commentary regarding the daughter’s exploits came to a screeching halt when they discovered their mother had A BLOG, and she likes to OVERSHARE.

You might call it payback, I mean, any child who can use a booger as a form of weaponry, deserves to have her story published for all the world to see.  This worked out just fine when she was 5, but now I feel the need to protect the privacy of these two beautiful young ladies.  For the sake of full disclosure, she has moved on to belching, as a way to get in the last word.  So I use the term “lady” loosely.

And now I’m going to owe her a quarter.

Jensen is still, of course, fair game.  He possesses no filter whatsoever, and actually delights in the fact that his exploits are my main and nearly only source of blog fodder.

But I can only talk about lizards, dinosaurs, public nudity, and inappropriate outbursts for only so long.

Therefore, my friend, Jennifer, had an idea.  She suggested that I should start a whole new blog under an alias.  And then change the names to protect the not-so-innocent.  And of course photographic evidence would be forbidden.

I took the idea a step further.  What if I create “a basement,” or “cellar” as a tab on THIS blog.  I would make it pass-word protected, so that it was not so “public.”  My friend, who is brilliant, went well over the bounds of good taste and suggested a PayPal button to fund “the basement” in case I need to shell out any dough to the teenager and her sidekick.

These are the sorts of things I mull over when I’ve not had nearly enough caffeine.  Or sleep.

But still.  It’s interesting food for thought…



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