Momservation: Also nominated for Best Play-Off of Forgetting to Pick Your Kids Up From School on Early Day.
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I think I need to win an Academy Award just so I can give an Oscar acceptance speech.
Oh, don’t pretend like you’ve never given your bra and panties acceptance speech into a brush handle, holding up your Aqua Net hairspray/Oscar thanking the little people who made your tremendous (but not entirely surprising) success possible!
Though screenwriter James Ivory, 89, became the oldest Oscar winner at last night’s Academy Awards giving me hope that I still have time to break into showbiz, I don’t think I can wait that long.
I mean I could walk out of my house and be hit by a low flying drone tomorrow! Not only would my promise to one day declare “Hell with it!” as I pull into a Krispy Crème when the Hot Light is on and eat a dozen glazed donuts in one sitting go unfulfilled…but all my people would go unthanked!
So, let’s do this already!
Though the only award I could probably hands down win at this time is Best Overreaction to Another Wet Towel Left on the Floor, let me step into an old bridesmaid dress, tap my hair brush to make sure it’s on, and proudly accept my can of Bed Head hair spray…
Momservations readers, members of the Academy, I’d first like to thank you for this inauspicious recognition.
I know my other fellow nominees, Jennifer Mahoney, Kim Campbell, Mindy Salvetti, and Melinda Borg have equally and impressively flipped out over lesser infractions causing their husbands to slip off to work before their dirty underwear on the floor again was noticed—thank you ladies for making me feel like I’m not the only unhinged mother and wife screaming at her family first thing in the morning.
I’d like to thank my kids, Logan and Whitney, for giving me endless reasons to lose my patience, countless times to nag and threaten, and forever prompting my now famous sacrilegious line: “How many times do I have to ask you to quit your mushroom farming on my carpet and pick up your God damn wet towels and hang them up for Christ’s sake?!” Without you…I’d look like a sane person.
I’d like to thank my husband, Trey, for seeing past the raving lunatic who seems to be more present these days than the charming, funny, tender-hearted, beautiful on the inside and out woman who seems to have gotten lost under 20 extra pounds of menopausal weight, has forgotten how to shave her legs, and who thinks she can still pull off sexy in her unwashed Minions pajama pants and stained Pizza My Heart t-shirt that she has been known to work in all day and go ahead and let them ride again that night. Honey, you lucky dog, you complete me.
I’d like to thank my mom and dad who continue to love me and tell me how wonderful I am despite mounting unhinged moments and evidence to the contrary. Despite likely planning a Minions pajama pant intervention and still holding out hope that I will one day become chronically on time instead of chronically late, Mom…Dad…you are the Ben & Jerry to my ice cream. Thank you for not making me gluten intolerant.
Thank you to my older brother, Ron, for being my training ground for oversized reactions to minor infractions. Sorry about all the groundings and weekends spent restricted to your bedroom.
Thank you to the rest of the Queens: Amy, the two Laura’s, Julie, Tracy, Christy, and Michelle. There’re no other gals I’d want to eat stinky cheese and drink Go-Girls with.
Thank you to my Memoir Writing Class who make me feel like I am your favorite granddaughter and the best part of your day all rolled up in one. You are my people.
And thank you to my fuzzy baby, my shmoopy poopy puppy, softest, sweetest, most lovable sugar lump in the whole wide world: Darby. Tell Daddy to turn on the electric blanket, cue up “This Is Us” and jump up on the end of the bed…Mommy’s coming home with the big prize!