Tonight, as we drove home, our son asked me about Manic Mommies:
A: How long did you do Manic Mommies?
K: Nine and a half years.
A: That’s a long time.
K: Sure is.
A: I miss it.
K: What do you miss about it?
A: The trips. Like when we went to Disney with Chevrolet.
K: That didn’t happen all that frequently, did it?
A: No. But you used to have all those people listening to you. You were like Lady Gaga. . .
K: of motherhood? I was the Lady Gaga of Motherhood?
A: Yes, and now . . .
[Silence – which I can only interpret as the moment of silence for the death of my status as the Lady Gaga of Motherhood.]
A: Maybe you and I could start a podcast.
K: What would we talk about? Girls?
A: That would be gross.