A woman who I think is fabulous and beyond told me that I remind her of Bethanny. You know. Bethanny? The Real Housewife, the Skinny Margarita girl, got married, had a baby, has another reality show? Well that is a compliment to make my size 10 head swell for a month. It has been decided that I totally need my own reality show.
It would be totally unique. I wasn’t picked to live in a loft with 10 strangers; I only have three kids, not 19; My entire wedding budget wouldn’t have bought me a dress at Kleimenheimer’s or whatever the name of that fancy pants store is; I only have one spouse and we met at a party, also, I found it horribly romantic when he gave me a coffee pot for Valentine’s one year—not a single red rose; I am not vertically or horizontally challenged; I am not a former wrestler or rock star; I am sending people to time-out for tantrums and not to jail for missing bail; I am not a supper nanny, in fact most of the time I think I have no clue what I am doing and make it up as I go along; You won’t get a million dollars for doing some ridiculous act in a minute—I’ve got lots of people who can empty a box of Kleenex if given the chance; and I actually am a housewife, not like a fake boob, wearing 20 carats of diamonds kind of house wife. No I am the “yoga pant wearing, did I eat lunch today?” sort of housewife.
That will be a good name “The Real Yoga Pants Housewives of Michigan.” But hopefully soon I will have the glorious privledge of returning to work full time in which I will need to re-title the show. That is something that I am more than willing to work on when the situation arises.
Here’s my plan-I am going to have a video camera system installed on a track to run across the house. I can’t be having a camera crew following me around. I already have two toddlers and two dogs following me everywhere I go in out itty bitty lovely home. Even after having half the staff at Sparrow Hospital see all my goods I am only willing to let so many people go into the bathroom with me at one time. This isn’t an East Lansing bar here, we have limits on the number of people pee’ing in one room.
Not to mention, the lighting guy would probably trip and fall over a Buzz Lightyear toy and then sue me. That totally would defeat the purpose of having a reality show to make me rich and famous without having any real Hollywood or New York talent.
The Bravo channel will also need a mini-van so I can haul my three littles all over the world. Don’t tell them that we never really go anywhere because it takes me half the day to get ready to go to the mall for 15 minutes. But I just might for the sake of television. I mean who wouldn’t want to watch me pushing one kid in the stroller, have another slung under my arm wiggling for freedom to put something from the floor in their mouth and a third wailing and hissy-fitting all over in protest of leaving that we are already leaving because Mommy has used up all of her patience during the “let’s leave the house” workout.
Who wouldn’t want to watch that?!
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