Standing in my kitchen preparing my "famous baked potato and Diet Coke" while nursing a wicked allergy migraine. Hubby is gone for the night, kids are in bed, it is finally my turn for dinner.
I stop to think, "Man, I wish I had a chef who would prepare this for me."
I look around my living room as I sink into the couch next to a pile of laundry.
"Too bad I don't have a maid to hang all this up and put it away."
After eating, hanging laundry and clearing my own dishes, I flip through my Daytimer and see the list of appointments I have to make in the next few weeks.
"Isn't there a personal assistant I can hire to do all of this for me?"
That's when it hits me.
I don't want a chef, maid or personal assistant......
I WANT MY MOM!