Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is no psychic. She may have an uncanny ability to pick up alternate forms of energy (we're not talkin' solar power or nuclear reactions here), to read people by their subconscious tics, or simply a knack for putting two and two together.
Bear with me. We are about to partake in an exercise of non-psychic proportions. Momnac the Magnificent is holding the sealed envelope to her forehead, and says..."FEET!" We'll get to the question sealed inside that envelope later.
Today I had the good fortune of buying a winning lottery ticket. Sure, that's old hat for Mrs. Hillbilly Mom. The story will be on my not-so-secret blog tomorrow (Tuesday). Let it suffice that my sister the ex-mayor's wife, one of the first people I delight in informing of a lottery win, after of course congratulating me in her effervescent manner, asked about my last will and testament.
Okay. Maybe that's a little unfair to Sis. She had first said that I would be loaded (not in the DRINKING way) for our upcoming Casinopalooza 2. And I told her that's the plan, but first I have a lawyer bill to pay off, seeing as how Farmer H and I stopped by to finalize our will last Monday, and we got the bill today. Guess our lawyer is taking no chance on us kicking before he gets his cut! Anyhoo...Sis said that she and the ex-mayor needed to do the same thing, and how much did it cost, if I didn't mind her asking. I didn't mind. She's family. But y'all are not. So I'm not putting the price here. Except to say that it was slightly more than a pair of inserts from The Good Feet Store.
Funny that reference should come to mind as I was in the planning stages with today's tale. Because during lunch with my favorite gambling aunt today, SHE talked about shoe inserts, and how she had some made, and I said, "I hope it wasn't at The Good Feet Store!" and she said, "It WAS! And I took them back, and we got into it!"
Anyhoo...Sis also told me I should start a psychic service concerning winning lottery tickets. But you know that real psychics are rare, and folks who use your own clues to predict things in your life are much more common. So here's the question sealed inside Momnac the Magnificent's envelope:
"What is someone in your readership having trouble with/thinking about/smelling/propping up/fetishizing/walking on...accomplishing/attempting/performing/gaining notoriety from...planning/having thrown for them/being celebrated with...today or in the future or in the past?"
Yes. And that answer, remember, before we unsealed the question, was FEET. Or maybe FEAT. Or even FETE. Work with me, people!
I think I've pretty much got it covered. I can hang out my shingle. The Amazing Momskin. Now open for business.