I’ve just found your site, and you’ve probably answered this question a million times before, but here goes. Why do you call yourself Aunt Becky?

See, now that’s an awesome question, actually. I’ve dedicated an entire post to it right here.

Dear Aunt Becky,

I was just wondering where you draw the line between blogger Aunt Becky, and Becky in real life.

Let’s say you get introduced to someone, and they are a big fan of your blog (because obviously). Would you be wierded out if they asked (in a sincere, fanlike way) if Dave had gotten his penis ring yet, or if you were feeling better about the attractiveness of your “cooter”?

Do you refer to your children as crotch parasites at playdates :)? Or do you just pray that the “pretty vagina question” will not come up at the next PTA meeting lol?

What is Aunt Becky like when she is away from the shield of the screen?

Love,
Too Chicken To Blog

Dear Too Chicken,

The Daver here. Becky tried to answer your question but despite the fact that she talks about her life online every day ( 904 posts in the ol’ archive at last count. Nine. Hundred. Four. ), she has a terrible time answering questions about herself.

Which, in a strange way, should give you some idea as to the answer: she’s not that much different in real life. I don’t see her ever refer to people who read her blog as ‘fans’. They’re her people, her gnomies, her Internets; so if someone asked her about my penis ring, she’d probably tell you the truth: no, not yet.

I think the only time she’d be weirded out by someone is if they took it to another level, like showing up at our house unannounced wearing leather assless chaps and dancing around our yard chanting “Aunt Becky Is My HERO!” If if were *announced*, of course, that may be a different matter. MAYBE.

I’ve heard the phrases “crotch fruit” and “beef curtains” on more than one playdate, but she probably wouldn’t use those terms if she didn’t know you were down with it. Like, around my parents? She doesn’t even flip me the bird too often, and she limits her use of terms of endearment like ‘assbag’, ‘old balls’, and ‘shithead’, keeping it to ‘pooface’ and the ever-popular ‘dear’.

In real life, she’s a little less patient, a little more sarcastic ( some kinds of sarcasm just don’t translate well to blogs ), every bit as smart, and just as hilarious. I married her for good reason, y’know.

–The Daver

I would like to add to The Daver’s wonderful guest blog that I am also stunningly gorgeous.

who sang the song “the hardest part of love is letting go?

So, I have never heard of this song, but apparently it’s sung by Stephanie J. Block and from a play “Children of Eden.”

Because I do not know it, I am forced to believe it’s probably not as awesome as some other songs. So I’d recommend things like Dolly Parton’s “Little Sparrow,” anything by ABBA, and the entire Red Hot Chili Pepper’s Blood Sugar Sex Magik album. Or really, anything by Queen.

Dear Aunt Becky

Where did I leave my keys?

Probably the best thing about being married is that Dave always knows where his keys are. I do not. I mean, I KIND OF know where mine are, but not really. Dave cannot imagine a life where people do not know where his keys are at any given moment in time.

By this statement, you’d think that of the two of us, Dave would be the organized one, all of his I’s dotted and t’s crossed, but no. HOLY SHIT no. I can’t find my wallet 98% of the time, yet I am the one who knows where everything else in the house is and what it does and what it should be doing tomorrow.

Everything except for my wallet, keys and phone.

I think your keys are behind the toilet right now. Or maybe on a plane to China. Or in the toy bin. Or up the street having dinner with a French prostitute.

But you should ask The Daver. He’d know better.

—————–

In the event that you are going to Blogher and would be interested in heckling me from the audience of an! official! panel, go here and tell them that you’d want to throw things at me. They’re just seeing if there’s any interest in the topic, so it’s not like all ‘get your rotted fruit ready’ yet.

And Bloggies close today.

Comments

comments

49 thoughts on “Go Ask Aunt Becky

  1. The key question totally made me laugh, because somehow having a kid means I never know where my keys are anymore. And when I can’t find them who do I ask (even if that means calling him at work?) That’s right…the hubby. lol

      1. Umm, yes they do….

        It’s actually easy to do, you still have them dangling from your fingers, you have your bags full, , you open the door, you put them down, and somehow the keys wind up in the fridge. I have also found my sunglasses in the freezer.

  2. That’s funny. I’ve been sitting outside of your house for weeks now. Is that weird?

    Look out your window. Right now. Can you see me? And I’ll be at Blogher too.

    Um, what’s your room number?

  3. If there were a contest that had as a prize, “Meet ONE online blogger of your choice!” you would be the person I’d most want to meet.

    Now point me in the direction of that contest so I can win!

  4. I think you two are just the cutest couple ever. Yes, that sounds totally cheesy, and totally unoriginal, and yes – I mean every word!

  5. Greetings from Orchid-land,

    Always lovely to stop by your world.

    The best way to find *anything* lost comes from this chant:

    “Tony, Tony, turn around.
    “Something’s lost and cant’ be found.”

    Yup irreverent request to Saint Anthony, who seems to find lost items. So take a few deep breaths. Say the chant. Take a few more deep breaths and relax about the lost item. It *will* show up, or you’ll be led to it.

    Happy February – Happy Groundhog Day (a few days early)!

    1. I’ve always said prayers to St. Anthony! Most of the time, he shows me the way. I’ve never found the photo album I misplaced in my last move, which means that it’s gone for good. Sadly, that’s probably the one thing I really can never replace.

    1. Sometimes, I think it’s more “achingly gorgeous,” but others, I’m stuck with “jaw-droppingly beautiful.” I went with “stunningly gorgeous.” I find that’s a good compromise.

  6. Sweetie, Ask Aunt Becky is ever more informational than the last time, every time it rolls around. Is there NO amount of knowledge that is missing from your end, cause, day-yum, you should write a book just randomly answering questions that YOU JUST KNOW ARE OUT THERE, and need badly to be answered.

  7. As someone who just bought her daughter a Queen shirt AND taught the kid to sing the theme to Flash Gordon (which she does by screaming “BASH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” it’s hilarious), I think that we would be besties 🙂 (especially when you add ABBA and Chili Peppers; if you also love Pearl Jam, I might have to start stalking you – in the best way possible, of course)

  8. Yes, I am one of Those People who spent way too long reading your blog. But now I’m all caught up. Just call me Aunt Pervy, I guess.

    And hi!

  9. I was going to ask you where my cordless phone was, but now I have to go home and look behind the toilets and in the toy bins, you may just be on to something.

  10. I’m hoping my daughter grows up to be an organized person, because both my husband and I are hopeless. She is good at finding all the crap we don’t want her to get, so there’s hope.

    Bloggies? voted. BlogHer? voted.

  11. Oh My!
    Your post on your name with your high school photo made me realize that you went to high school with my husband.
    That’s a little strange in a small world kind of a way.
    I think he was a few years ahead of you though.

    The photos are very similar. same cheesy smile, similar long brown hair. (you’re much cuter!)

    just thought I’d share.

  12. Awwww, you are too cute. Dave too.

    And dude, the keys thing….I can tell you exactly where all of the keys in our house are, what they are next to, where that item of clothing is…everything. If I touched it or something next to it. If someone moved it though? Fuhgetaboutit.

  13. Yeah, I always either have my keys, wallet, and phone on me, or I know exactly where they are. The GF never does. She can barely unlock our front door, cause I’m always the one who does it, she doesn’t know which way the key goes in, or which direction to turn it.

    I figure this must be the only reason she keeps me around.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *