Juggling responsibilities

I haven’t been such a good blogger lately, have I? On Friday I received word that I needed to have my bio, author photo, Dear Reader letter, and/or any dedication/acknowledgements by today. Well, there went the Glamour Shots appointment. Man…and I had my poodle rented and my feather boa all set to go. Guess not.

The author bio gave me a bit of trouble. The website bio is a bit long, not to mention that it’s a little on the goofy side. I think the toughest part about writing a bio is making yourself sound interesting when you aren’t a NYT bestselling author and when you haven’t won any awards yet. Here were some of the rejected bios:

Michelle Willingham is thrilled to finally have achieved her dream of becoming a published author. Being published requires great sacrifices. House cleaning was her first sacrifice. Exercise became the second.

Then there was this one:

Michelle lives in southeastern Virginia with her husband, kids, and suicidal guppies. The Tank of Death lives on!

And here’s what we ended up with: Michelle Willingham grew up living in places all over the world including Germany, England, and Thailand. When her parents hauled her to antique shows in manor houses and castles, Michelle entertained herself by making up stories and pondering whether she could afford a broadsword with her allowance.

She graduated summa cum laude from the University of Notre Dame with a degree in English and received her master’s degree in education from George Mason University. Currently, she teaches American History and English and is working on more medieval books set in Ireland. She lives in southeastern Virginia with her husband and children. She still doesn’t have her broadsword. Visit her website at: www.michellewillingham.com or e-mail her at michelle@michellewillingham.com.

So anyway, that’s done.

We spent the weekend in Philadelphia, meeting up with college friends for a mini-reunion. Tailgating in a hotel room, to be precise. It was great fun, and it took restraint not to make the children stand on the steps of the Philadelphia Art Museum with their fists raised in the air, Rocky-style. We were good parents and took the kids to see the Please Touch Museum, and let them run around. The day was topped off with a puppet show, which to my husband, is akin to bodily torture. His eyes were rolling back in his head when there were sock puppets involved. My children, of course, were mesmerized.

The crowning moment came when at the end, the performer asked, “What should we do next, kids?” and an older child beside me yelled, “Choke the puppet!” I thought my husband was going to die laughing. Thankfully the performance was short.

So what was the best/worst/strangest children’s performance you’ve ever seen?