No really, she may.
Yesterday, Troi was home visiting our parents, and it was the first time they had seen her in person since they found out about the blog. Our mom’s McButtery love has only grown since she started reading the blog, and she confessed to watching “Just the Way You Are” at least once a day. Also, while her appreciation for Pitbull hasn’t developed, she has decided that McPrecious has moved into the upper-echelon of her favorite male singers. Like, her trifecta of awesome is now Bono, Mac Powell, and McCrockett.
And then, while out at a show, Troi saw Big Mama checking her phone before the performance began. (sidenote, y’all: Big Mama was coined ironically by Troi’s husband a while back. Our mother is, in fact, tiny. Wee, even. Dare we say, McCrockett-sized.) At first, it seemed like she was catching up on some emails. A closer glance, however, revealed that she was actually re-reading Keith’s epic LOTR response to his last “Dear Keith.” Of course.
Later on, our mom called Crusher to catch up.
“Wow, what a fun day on the blog today, huh?” Big Mama remarked.
“Yup, it was pretty epic. Hey, I can chat for a few minutes but then I have to leave to go out to dinner,” Crusher replied.
“Oh, so what are you guys doing tonight?”
“We’re going out for Mexican.”
“…I meant what are you posting on the blog.”
Our blog-world is now more interesting to our mother than our real lives. (And Mom, we know you don’t care, but the new Mexican restaurant Crusher went to was really good.)
The rest of Crusher’s conversation with our mother basically consisted of Big Mama gushing over how brilliant Keith’s Fellowship comparison was. (Her one complaint? Keith didn’t give himself enough credit for being awesome. And we’re with her on that. We’re pretty sure that, like Gandalf, Keith would totally confront a Balrog to save his friends. And if the guys ever found themselves fighting a VP version of Helms Deep, we’re quite certain that Keith would rush in with reinforcements to save the day.) Big Mama actually said, “It was amazing! I just wonder how he went about doing it. And to think he wrote it all in about an hour! It was so great! You better be careful or he’ll steal the blog away from you!”
Okay Mom, let’s be real. At this point, Keith is basically our third blogger anyway, and yes, he could totally steal the blog if he wanted to. And true, his comment was epic and amazing and all of the great adjectives in the world. But you know what? Crusher wrote the McButters’ Conspiracy in about an hour. Where’s the props for that? Troi can crank out a performance review in about 45 minutes. Still not impressed, Mom? Oh geez, now we know how McCrockett felt during the “Life is a Highway” judging (“You’re great. You’re always great… But in what Keith did…”). Sure, she likes our stuff just fine, but nothing can compare to what Kevin can do.
Of course, part of the issue is that Keith’s topic was totally in the wheelhouse of things Big Mama loves, loves, loves. We are a big-time LOTR family. Just how much? Well, our mom really, really loves Legolas. Way back in 2003, she asked for a bathrobe for Mother’s Day. Which is practical, but lame. So we bought her the robe… and a life-size Legolas cut-out. And then we put the robe on the cut-out and left him in the kitchen for her to find in the morning. (Side note: not our brightest idea… apparently it can really startle a barely-awake person to see a strange figure standing by the coffee pot at the crack of dawn.) Well, she loved her “Legy” (pronounced Leggy) cut-out, and eventually he made his way into the corner of the dining room.
Where he still is.
We repeat, almost nine years later, there is still a cut-out of Legolas in the dining room at our parents’ house. And…
…he gets decorated for holidays and special occasions.
So it’s no wonder that she completely geeked out on the VP LOTR post. But that leads us to one more mini-tangent. There is another tradition in our family that is relevant to this whole loss-of-motherly-love crisis. And that is the concept of “Blessèd Daughter.” Basically, whenever one of us does something pleasing to her, we get the mantle of being Blessèd Daughter. Likewise, you can lose it (and the other one gets it by default) if you do something unpleasing. This is always for rather inane things: empty out the dishwasher while you’re home visiting? Blessèd Daughter. Say something snarky about kayaking? Lose the title of Blessèd Daughter. Sometimes, if we’ve both lost the title, Troi’s husband or a random friend who’s willing to momentarily suck-up can be bestowed with the title. There are no benefits, no prizes, no actual effects on reality. And yet, from high school on, this has been a running joke in our family.
Why are you telling us about this, you may ask. Well… we’re pretty sure that Keith is Blessèd Daughter right now. So, enjoy that, buddy. Like we said, there are no benefits, but you do get bragging rights, if you care about that sort of thing. And since it’s unlikely you’ll do anything to lose the title, you’re going to have to wait for one of us to win back the moniker. Actually, Troi’s husband is probably most likely to get it next, as he’s quick to jump when he sees the opportunity to be Blessèd Daughter (it’s always Blessèd Daughter, by the way… gender is irrelevant).
So, yay for Keith and his amazing writing skills that have so completely won over our mother. You know, we’ve managed to go our whole lives without any real sibling rivalry problems. And apparently now they’re going to crop up with our internet pen pal. For real?
-Troi and Crusher