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Mindy’s Musings hasn’t got viral. Yet.

What is has done, much to my surprise, is compel people to call or email me with their stories saying, “here’s a really crazy one you should write about!” or, “you’ve got to put this one in your next book, it’s hilarious!” Nothing could make me happier. My book is making people laugh and now they want to share their own stories, which just means more laughter.

They say laughter is the best medicine and I agree. Plus, it’s free, has no bad side effects and is available to EVERYONE!! So bring it on, folks.

But wait, this could be something? I mean Some Thing.

At this moment I am filled with an overwhelming sense pride and satisfaction at the prospect of having started a new fad (better yet let’s say “trend” as “fad” is so temporary) of people connecting, really connecting, to share their own daily escapades through the extraordinarily ordinary. I have to admit, I’m a little verklempt right now.

One example came this week from my friend and co-worker, Kyla. If you read my book, she makes an appearance in Chapter 2. If you haven’t read my book- GO READ IT!

Kyla lives in a nice, suburban neighborhood much like my own. She and her husband have a six year old and were thrilled to meet their new neighbors, who also have young children, when they relocated here last year. That was about the last thrill with their new “friends”.

Kyla’s daughter has frequent play dates with her neighbor’s kids. One recent kid fest at Kyla’s house included the usual suspects of toys, cookies and lots of paper and markers. Everyone had fun and the kids parted happy as clams.

A couple of days later Kyla receives a phone call from Jennifer, not to thank her for a lovely day, but rather requesting her daughter’s “art work” from the earlier play date. A little background is required before I proceed here.

Kyla, like me, works long hours, travels, and juggles the family, kid activities and the social calendar the best she can. Jennifer has an equally important job as a stay at home mom. The distinction is not the importance of the job- both are important- but rather the priority one places on certain aspects of that job.

Back to the “art work”.

“Hi Kyla, it’s Jennifer. I’d like to drop over and pick up Lisa’s art work from yesterday.”

Kyla was just silent thinking, “What art work? Did the kids do a secret project or go paint pottery with the dads while I was at work?” Then it dawned on her- the paper and markers. You know what they say… one Mom’s trash is another Mom’s treasure. In this case, the treasure consisted of a bunch of scribble scrabble on scrap paper and had found a new home at the bottom of the recycle bin.

Does tossing the “art work” make Kyla a bad mom? No. Does Jennifer have a slightly skewed definition of “artwork”. Yes. Personally, I think she will qualify as a contestant in the real life game show called “I live now and will always live vicariously through my children”. But my opinion doesn’t really matter. In the end, Kyla told Jennifer the artwork was permanently on display- in her shredder- and was irretrievable.

Then there was the issue of the missing shorts. Kyla’s daughter loved these shorts. Size 6-T denim, and very fashionable. Missing. Vanished. Gone. Vamoosh. Kyla searched and searched for weeks and finally accepted that they were gone forever.

Or were they?

Ringy Ringy. It’s Jennifer again. Not in hot pursuit of stick people sketched on recycled paper this time, but with a very welcome discovery of one pair of missing, very fashionable size 6-T denim shorts. Yes, she’d had them for almost a month, but really, it’s a long trek across the street to return them. Should Kyla have been thankful or pissed? You choose.

Finally, the fish fiasco. And this is priceless.

Kyla and Jennifer retrieve one another’s mail when the family is out of town. Typical neighbor stuff and a nice thing to do. No phone call for this one, just a text message.

“Kyla, we’re going on vacation next week. Can you get our mail?”

Why the hell not. Pick up a few letters, drop them in a basket and they can come get them when they get home.

“Sure, no problem, Jennifer. Let us know when to start.”

“Great, thanks, Kyla. Oh, and can you feed our fish while we’re gone, too?”

Mail is one thing, but a living, breathing creature is another. As we say in sales, time to ask some qualifying questions. Remember, this is all happening by text message.

“How long will you be gone? And how many times a day does the fish need to be fed.”

“Three weeks. He needs to be fed once a day. But if you can’t do that, you can go to PetSmart and get some time released fish food and it can be every other day. Thanks, we leave tomorrow.”

OMFG. Really? Let me get this straight. Please pick up my mail for three weeks. And don’t kill my fish while we’re gone. If you can’t get your sorry ass to my house often enough, take it upon yourself to make the trip to the pet store and buy time released food at your own expense. Ciao, we’re off.

Turns out, Jennifer recently converted from Judaism. She said it was because her husband isn’t Jewish. I’m not biting. It’s because she was a crappy Jew. Any of us would have asked nicely if Kyla could babysit Mr. Fish, provided 3 months worth of food, some brownies for the family and $20 in case Mr. Fish got sick and needed medical attention. We also would have brought the tiny fish tank to Kyla’s house so as not to impose too much inconvenience. Jennifer did not convert. She was kick out of the tribe. Period.

Kyla was right. This was indeed good fodder for my book and blog. It reaffirms that we all have nutty stories and equally nutty neighbors- that none of us are exempt.

It also brings me back to reality. To the truth that I have not, in fact, started a revolution of “people connecting, really connecting, to share their own daily escapades through the extraordinarily ordinary.”

What I have actually done is motivate people to apply fictitious names to real people in an effort to anonymously mock their ridiculous behavior. I believe the layman’s term for this is gossip.

Well, call it what you will. My mission is to make people laugh, without hurting anyone, and from what I can see, I’m doing just that. So laugh hearty, laugh often, and keep the stories coming!

Xo
Mindy