Like the Mary Poppins of Bloggerville

Yes, I know I'm supposed to be AWOL.
Indeed I remember that I gave up blogging.
True, I said I had to focus on some other things.

But we all know how short my attention span is.
And how I can't resist putting in my 3.5 cents (inflation, you know).
More importantly, I can't stand to see a smart, capable, professional woman dissolve into a messy puddle of tears, cake and chenin blanc.
I could see she needed me.
I mean someone has to help her before she lets her hair go.

Yes, I am that good of a friend.
So I won't tell you all that she's afraid to drive on the freeways.

Are you confused?
Just because I started in the middle?
Hey, I am not claiming to have found the divine karma of orderliness during my sabbatical so try to keep up, 'kay?

You see, dear blogbuds, it turns out my friend Junie is on the verge of losing her first child to higher education.
Yeah, totally against her wishes, her oldest manchild, Wally, has chosen NOT to change his name to Bare Pierre and give wings to her dream of opening a chain of naughty French bakeries, all the while remaining safely under her wing as well as her roof.
Yes, indeedy, Wally is escaping.
And Junie is crumbling.

Being the total optimist that I'm not, I suspect that just as soon as Junie gives a little more thought to this development, she will mop up her mascara tears and stiffen her neatly waxed upper lip and see this for opportunity it is.
C'mon Junie! Let's make some lemonade!

Trust me. I mean I'm already the proud owner of a college SOPHOMORE!
Okay, she hasn't actually bothered to leave home yet. But just in case she does, I'm keeping a handy list to remind me of all the benefits that go along with taking a cut in children.

1. An extra room is freed up! Go ahead and paint it shocking pink and tell everyone it's your naked yoga room. They will leave you alone in there for days! And so will that pesky church lady once they tell her why you can't come to the phone. Don't forget to install a little mini-fridge. Big enough for a box of you-know-what.
   
2. Only half as much of your stuff will disappear. This might be more applicable to those of us with girl children, but think about how much longer that batch of cookies will last before they all end up.. on... your.... thighs. Okay, bad example.
3. Much better chance of captaining the remote control! Think of it, Junie, just you, a box of Franzia and Mike Rowe.
   
4. And after Ms. Franzia and Mr Rowe get your engine revved, the odds are better that the id-kays won't be around to witness wild rumpus with the Wardster!
5. And then there's the quiet sound of siblings NOT arguing about whose turn it is to clean Mom's pink, naked yoga room.
6. And only half as many thongs to wash. Ew, hopefully, that one doesn't apply to you. Unless your last name is Chippendale. It isn't, is it?
7. Okay, here's one for you - only half as much he-debris in the bathroom sink. You know - that shaving cream/toothpaste scum peppered with little whiskerettes?
8. OMG, the smell! Think of how your house will maybe smell a little better! What IS it about teenage feet that make their shoes and everything in the same zipcode smell like week old roadkill after a good rain? Yes, even girls.
   

Okay, I totally don't know if you wax your lip or suffer from housatosis, but see, Junie? This is something you can work with.
I bet you are feeling better already.
I know you can do this like I know you can find a way to fill all the extra time you'll have.
"Oh, Ward!"

Just remember not to let the door hit Wally on his way out.
I mean, it could hurt him.
And delay his departure.