A. Marie Silver

A. Marie Silver

Dear Ellen: I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried!

Sometimes I write letters to Ellen DeGeneres. No particular reason. Just because I can.

Dear Ellen,

Today has been one of those days! I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. It’s no wonder writing professionals encourage newbies like me to get out in the real world and take notes while life is happening.

Sometimes we call my three-year-old son, BoBo.

(Well that’s just disturbing!)

It’s just a nickname.  Anyway, creepy clowns aside, it’s a term of endearment.  We’ve spent the last few months trying to potty train BoBo.  Whenever he had an accident I would say, “Oh BoBo,” in a tired voice. Never mean or cruel.  He’s just a baby.

This afternoon, BoBo was standing next to me in the kitchen when out of nowhere, he looked down at his pants and said, “Oh BoBo,” in the same tired voice I would use.  I looked down at his pants and, sure enough, he wet himself. I swallowed back the laughter because I didn’t want him to think I was making fun of his accident. Really, it was his cute-as-hell reaction to the accident that made me laugh.

Then this afternoon, I stepped into the restroom for a few minutes of privacy.  (What was I thinking?) This did not go over well with the two-year-old who’d been following me around. All. Freakin. Day.  The second the bathroom door closed, she started screaming.  I heard my husband trying to reason with her. That never goes over well. Someday he’s going to have to learn you can’t reason with a two-year-old.

After I finished my business, I followed the sounds of her screams into the hallway where I found her lying on her back, kicking the air with her feet.  She turned toward me right as my head came into view and stopped screaming. Then she said, “All Done!” and rolled off the floor, heading straight for me. And that was the end of her fit.

I swear, Ellen, I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. I don’t need to go out into the real world for dialogue. I can just stay home and watch my kids from the comfort of my couch.


A. Marie

24 Responses

  1. I laughed and laughed at this, even while I had empathy for you as a young mother, because I lived it. Every. Freaking. Day. through four kids, the oldest and youngest being 10 years apart. The bathroom was my respite, that is, until the kids came to the door crying as they beat desperately upon it with their tiny fists, “Momma, (sucking in breath a couple of times, then) Momma, please come back out! Momma” Then one would scream because another one shoved them, and the fight was on. There is a wealth of dialogue and story ideas from the wee ones. I enjoy your blog, A. Marie. Thank you for sharing a glimpse of your day as a mom. 😉

        1. Hi Derrick!

          When you have a second, check out my site and let me know if the font is better. I have the free version of wordpress so there’s a limit to the changes I can make, but I’m always happy to try!

  2. A joy to read.
    In the years ahead you will have the benefit of saying to your children when they have their own children ‘Hmm…I remember when you were that age….’ (and think, not too naughtily, ‘it’s payback time dearest’).

  3. Seriously Clowns again! I feel like they’re following me everywhere this week! And yes I sympathize with you hiding in the bathroom, with five kids it has been my hiding place for nearly 16 years now, and I haven’t even begun potty training the youngest one yet! He’ll be two on Monday 🙂

Leave a Reply

A. Marie Smith

Your short bio telling the story of why you are a writer and the things that you think are important.