why wy?

I heard Michael Jackson on the radio driving to school today, and it was suddenly 1985 for me, sitting in front of the tv watching him swish on a lighted disco floor that reminded me of hopscotch. I remember singing along, and not knowing what he was talking about biologically when he sang - but the kid is not my son. Now, it's 2005, puck has called me auntie (he swears it was in jest), adding to the list of short-but-getting-taller biologically-related folk already calling me that. It's a slow slide I tell you, I'd rather watch Jamie Oliver and the Iron Chef over the OC, Summerland, American Idol. Before you know it, I'll be knee-deep in soppy rom coms starring patrick swayze, wearing clothes from OG or Oriental Departmental Store.

This goes out to the women who have embraced auntie-dom proudly, so don't forget to call your mom tomorrow.