Life in a small town

Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name. Then you move to a small town, where...

1) You take your daughter to the roller rink to teach her how to skate, wipe out the very first time around the floor and realize in your moritification that you recognize 1/2 the kids standing over you laughing...yes, it is a birthday party of one of the 5th graders at your school.

2) You go to the local YMCA to take your children swimming, and before you get to the locker room (which you end up skipping, anyway) you run into the principal of another school you know, 3 former students and their families, 2 teachers you used to work with, and a partridge in a pear tree. Like you'd swim with that kind of audience...

3) You rush out to Kroger at 5 in the morning before the big blizzard hits, sans makeup and in your husband's flip-flops since they were by the door...and you see the superintendent (and a bunch of other women sans makeup and in their husband's house shoes...)

4) You're singing your ever-lovin' heart out to Carrie Underwood at the only stoplight in the county, and the next day at school a student asks you if you used to be in a band. :)

Yes, there's no anonymity these days for me. I don't really care--I do blog on the internet, after all. But last night when Eric suggested we move to the country one of these days (while we were watching our new favorite show, My Big Redneck Wedding), I'll have to admit the idea was tempting for a minute. After all, sometimes a girl's just gotta sing. Loud. But then, you could always sing with me...without makeup, of course.