And the Edgar Award Goes To ...

The phone rings, and I hear nothing but my crazy hubby in the car laughing at high volume. Can't wait to hear this one. We’re a fun-loving family. We love to joke, clown, and laugh at each other. Now, listen to me very closely…Whatever you do, DO NOT trip, stumble, fall, pass gas, break a word, kill a point, or partake in any other embarrassing moment around my crew. You WILL hear about it — in a robust, tonsil exposing belly laugh. After, of course, we see that you’re alright *wink*.

At the moment, I’m the current house leader. The one who hasn’t been laughed at or finger-pointed in a minute. And as my daughter lovingly puts it — "That’s a problem!”

OK...so back to the call. My hubby and daughter were apparently talking about her artsy dreams and goals. She’s a true Diva in training… the total package of singer, actress, and dancer. In the conversation, she describes how great and wonderful it will be when she wins her Grammy®. But ohhh no… that’s not the end of the story for this overachiever’s daughter. She then announces with pride, “… and I can’t wait to get my Edgar!”

Your who?! What? By this time my husband and I are dying on the phone, and in the background she’s yelling, “I meant to say...eager for an Edward!” OMG!… Ya killin me!!

When she finally got a grip on the word “Oscar®”, it was too late. Her cool points now fit neatly in our pockets, and we were busy trying to catch our breath.

Wow, the next time I trip in public, she’s gonna make me pay with interest. I can feel it. And I bet my number’s right around the corner… me and Edward’s!