My attempt at not being a sell out...

I’ve been contemplating the death of blogging. It doesn’t seem right that Facebook and Twitter could be a sustainable trade for blogging.
A friend of mine recently said, “Facebook killed the radio star.” While I don’t exactly understand it, I whole heartily agree.
How is that a one liner, written sarcastically in the third person can replace an authentic peek into someone’s life and mind?

How can BRANDI WILSON TOOK HER SON SPENCER TO THE ER LAST NIGHT FOR 6 STITCHES ON HIS FOOT.

Be a replacement for:
Four of the kids spent the night with Mom the other night. It was a much needed break for me. Summer had chewed me up that week and spit me out. I was ready for a relaxing evening doing anything but answering a millions questions and listening to anything besides repetitive video game music. I dropped off the kids at Mom’s and was so pleased that she had great plans for the kids. It was their last summer hurrah so she had the girls bring their play dishes because they were going to have a tea party. Mom had mini cheesecakes thawing. My nephews were already there and dying for my boys to get there. My boys had brought their video games and Mom had already made up a “Boys Room” where they could play video games and be as loud as they want. She was preparing to make hamburgers and asked what Randy and I were doing for dinner to which I replied, “Not eating here!” No offense to her hamburgers but I was not interested in being around the kid’s excited energy when I had all the wonderful silence waiting for me at home.
So I left and I was excited for the kid’s and their fun and myself with my nothingness.
I went home and returned to a book I had begun reading about a sarcastic post-Jehovah’s witness that grew up never being able to buy things at garage sales because her “fellowship” believed that demons attached themselves to things at garage sales. The book was hilarious and a bit spooky because of all the demon talk so I was already a little jumpy when the phone rang.
It was my Mom saying, “You’ve got to come and get Spencer and take him to the hospital. He’s hurt. I’m sure he needs stitches.” Then she HUNG UP. No, I’m not kidding. That was the call. I didn’t know what was wrong. I knew she couldn’t take him because she didn’t have enough seats in her car. I also knew it was not ambulance worthy, but still there’s a big gap between taking one to the hospital and ambulance. Well, I called my mother in law (she lives two doors down) and basically said that same thing to her except instead of “you have to take Spencer to the hospital” I asked if she would take care of Miles for me. After she said yes I left the house and didn’t wait for her to get here.
On my way to my Mom’s I tried to get a hold of Randy but his phone was dead. As I was driving I passed him on Butternut so he ended up following me over to Mom’s house.
When we got there our tough boy wasn’t crying. He had several kids hovering over him and his leg was resting in Mom’s lap. She had a white dishrag wrapped over his foot. When we got closer she removed the rag and the top of his foot was sliced open and stretched apart. It was cut through to the fat.
All the kids began to tell me the whole story. I could see that Jocie had been crying. She’s so sensitive to other people’s pain. I could also see that Spencer had been crying. His face was swollen and splotchy. Randy picked up his big boy and carried him to the truck.
The boys had been playing out side while Mom was cooking hamburgers on the grill and she was yelling at them to get their shoes on. The punch line of the whole story is that Spencer was going inside to get his shoes on when he sliced his foot open on Grammy’s door.
So, we take him to the ER because it’s after hours at his pediatrician’s office. I figure my glorious evening of nothingness is long gone because it’s being traded for hours of waiting in the ER. I was pleasantly wrong. We were out of there in an hour with fantastic service and a $5 co-pay for his insurance which will run out today.
We dropped him back off at Mom’s with 6 stitches and a cheering welcome from all the other kids. Randy and I ended up eating hamburgers with all the kids and Mom and still had silence to go back home to.


BRANDI WILSON HAS HOPEFULLY PROVED HER POINT.