Hub and I drove up to the City again tonight, and had steaks at the Road House. We went by ourselves. We did not take any mothers with us, and once there we did not phone any children and ask them to join us. We went by ourselves. It was a (let me jog my memory here for a minute. . . . okay, I remember now. . . .) DATE. Yes, tonight I had a date with a cute boy. He paid and everything, so it was a real date. And when he took me home, he walked me to the door. And I (please don’t tell my mother) invited him in. He’s still here. Down in the family room, grading papers and watching tv. We’re wild, remember? But hey, the evening isn’t over yet.

Personally, I think we should just move up there to the City, as every single day one or both of us goes up there anyway. I’m sure the children would love it if we were that much closer, and more able to keep an eye on their social lives. It’s difficult to do that, from a distance. I suspect they are going out with people Hub and I don’t even know, some nights. And after the raspberry Margarita incident of last night, I MORE than suspect that there might be some (GASP) shennanigans of the alcoholic nature going on.

If I had keys to their apartments, I could go in while they were at work and clean, and listen to their phone messages and reply to them, to save them the trouble. I’d write down all the names and numbers of all the girls who seemed nice by my standards, which I’m sure are the same as Zappa’s standards. And I’d do the same for Belle, with the men. Any floozy-ish activity would, of course, be erased. I know Zappa would appreciate that. And any suggestion of wrong-doing on Belle’s answering machine would be dealt with likewise. I could check their email, and go through their address books, eliminating anyone that didn’t pass my sharp-eyed mommy exam. Why, it would save them a TON of time and trouble.

You see, children? Mommy would be very helpful living up there. Why, we could even get an apartment in your complex! I could sell my car, because I know you would be glad to drop everything and cart me around anytime, and anywhere I wanted to go. This is sounding better and better by the minute!

I could call the mommies of your dates to make sure they came from nice families. I could be there when you brought your date in, to take prom-like pictures for posterity. I know your dates would appreciate something for the memory book. Your grandmothers might even join me! You’d enter your apartment with your date, late at night, and there we’d be, wearing ruffly pink aprons and holding out paper Dixie cups of Kool-aid for you and your date! And then we could all watch Nickelodeon together! Oh, we’d have a lovely time for forty minutes or so, when of course your date would take his/her leave and go back to their own apartment to sleep.

What do you think, children? Tell Momy what you think.

Here’s what I think:

Just remember that no matter how embarassing Momy might get sometimes, it could always be worse.