Put on something nice, grab a jacket, and let's go. I'm taking you out to dinner. Yes, you. C'mon.
It's our blogiversary.
You deserve something nice, something really special, so you know what I did? I stopped by that store, you know, the one you like so much, and I bought that necklace you've had your eye on. I know, I know, but I already bought it. I bought it and I threw away the receipt so you can't make me take it back. You deserve it.
Yes, you. You who read me day after day. You who comment when something tickles your fancy. You who lurk endlessly without so much as a hello. You who have read from the beginning and you who who found me today. You who write me with advice, and you who don't. Especially you who don't.
There were times when I didn't think we'd make it, and to be honest, as I peruse my archives, there were times when you had every right to leave. But I was new at this thing called blogging and I guess you sensed that and you forgave, and continue to forgive, my occasional missteps.
Many days I feel this little site is about to go belly-up, that if I can't come up with something out-of-the-park clever to say, then you won't come back tomorrow. I sit down on the floor of the twins' room as they nap, laptop warm on my thighs, and I fight the urge to pull the plug on us, so that I no longer feel you looking over my shoulder, wondering where the funny is, or I hear you counting the days since my last post, feeling that with each new day I had better be that much more riotous when I come back.
And then other days it all just comes together, like magic. Usually those days involve poop. But not always. Okay, always.
Still, we've had some wacky times. Like when my oldest daughter accidentally locked herself in your bathroom. Or when we met in New York City to take pictures of our shoes. Or when the New York Times linked to me by accident, or Time Out Kids took away my third child, or PrimeTime Live filmed me looking like an ass. There was the time when you introduced yourself at that store in Montclair and we stared at each other for a few minutes, neither of us knowing what to say next. Or when you sent me coffee because I had forgotten to buy my own. And I know I'll keep this site going just so I can add more of you to my list of yous. Because, really, and I mean this sincerely, with no tongue firmly planted in any cheek, it is because of you that I write.
So put your new necklace on and let's hit the town. You look great.
Unless you're a dude.
Or maybe even if. Send a picture and we'll see.