In high school I was really good friends with this girl, Lisa. The two of us were inseparable for a long time and got into more trouble together than I can even bear to stomach when I look at my daughter now, who is exactly like me in almost every way.

Anyway, after graduation, we both parted ways and went off to college. We continued to stay in touch on holidays and summer vacation, but it wasn't like it had been in high school (but I guess it never is). We had big plans of terrorizing the world together again when she graduated and came back home. But, of course, life got in the way and Lisa decided to follow a big paycheck to Los Angeles. We stayed in touch after that, but nowhere near as much as either one of us promised we would.

One day, out of the blue, I got a call from her telling me that she was home for a visit, wondering if we could get together to catch up on the past few years. So, we did. I told her about about meeting my husband, getting engaged, getting knocked up, getting married, being pregnant, giving birth and filled her in on all the details of married life, motherhood, and work. I realized how much less exciting my stories were than hers when she went on to tell me about how fabulous being single is in LA while making 6 figures and being able to buy $800 shoes at the drop of a $1200 hat. I heard about all the celebrities she met and all the parties she's been to and all the cocaine that she turned down. Oh, and then I heard about how she briefly dated and slept with Scott Baio. Yes, Chachi.

"Pssssht. Who hasnt?" I responded.

"What? You've slept with Scott Baio, too?" she asked.

"Well, no. But I think everyone else has. At least that's what he said on Howard Stern."

"Of course he said that to Howard Stern. Although, it might not be entirely inaccurate..."

"I don't get it," I said. "I've never even remotely liked Scott Baio."

[This is the moment in movies where you hear all the background noise interrupted by a really loud record scratching and all the world seems to stop]

"What?!" Lisa asked. "You never liked Scott Baio? That's ridiculous! Every girl loved Chachi!"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I didn't even find him that cute. Plus, that Charles In Charge song completely ruined him for me."

"What are you talking about?!" she asked.

"You know," [everybody sing] "Charles, in charge, of our days and our nights. Charles, in charge, of our wrongs, and our rights..."

[Okay, you can stop singing now. No, really. Stop.]

"...Didn't that creep you out just a little bit?" I asked.

"No!" she proclaimed. "You're insane! Every girl wanted Charles to be in charge! And I actually had Charles in charge!"

"Insane? Right, clearly I'm the one with issues here."

Rockstar Mommy calls this the magic hour. The day's not quite gone, but the night's not quite here, and somewhere, Scott Baio is plowing a woman he doesn't love.

| Permalink | Del.icio.us It | Fark It | Digg It| Stumble It!