The secret nudity of blogging

Today I was on the phone with Kelly Lynne chatting about nothing in particular when she inquired if she could share something with me. We chat on a near daily basis and know some pretty serious stuff about one another so I didn’t really think much of her request and said, “bring it on, why not?” And then she did. I was driving at the time, but such was my shock that I had to take a mental pause before replying, “Huh, I didn’t know that about you.” On the other end of the phone I heard an evil giggle and she said, “Yep, you weren’t expecting that one now, were you?” And then she giggled some more before replying, “Yes, well I wouldn’t have usually shared that with you but you blog and all and you tell total strangers stuff like that all the time.”

It’s true. I do. Last night I admitted that I pray to nobody in particular but still hope my pleas will be answered in the order they are received. I have also let it be known that pirates make my girl bits giddy and that motherhood stumps me on a daily basis. But, see, I forget these admissions. They are usually penned late at night after a day of working and mothering and maybe after a glass of wine. How can I possibly be held accountable for what adds up to whimpers of self-pity at that time of day under those circumstances? But Kelly Lynne is like a clever elephant, only lithe like a giraffe, and she remembers my ramblings, so much so that she reminds me when I forget all about them. She is a good friend that way.