I Am Just As Deserving of Help as Dina Lohan and Kate Gosselin

You know what I need?  A wife.  Except actually, being married to someone else would involve way too much emotional energy.

What I really need is a personal assistant.  I am barely functional and need some assistance to get through my day.  Celebrity moms all seem to have them.  Kate Gosselin has one, but she's got eight kids and no husband, so she needs the help. Kate also has a bodyguard, who seems to give her all kinds of personal assistance.

Even Mother of the Year Dina Lohan has one.  According to the intensely disturbing informative website Living Lohan, Dina Lohan's P.A. Alexis Armonas also serves as a "guidance counselor to Ali Lohan's upcoming career."  This sounds like an excellent idea.  I need someone to act as a guidance counselor to my daughters' upcoming careers as either drug-addicted pop stars or elementary school students. We haven't decided which yet.

Even celebrities who don't have kids have personal assistants.  Kathy Griffin, whom I adore, has a whole crew of them traipsing around after her on the D-List.  Her assistant Tiffany Rinehart has almost as many Twitter followers as Kathy. 

Kathy's assistants seem to genuinely enjoy their jobs, which is not always the case for P.A.s.  One of my good friends from high school is a personal assistant to some kind of big mucky-muck in New York City.  We'll call my friend Morgan Freeman.  We'll call her this because Morgan refers to her boss as Miss Daisy.  Anyway, Morgan has to do all kinds of insane New York City things like buy her boss thong underwear at Bergdorf Goodman, and return her boss' used caviar to Dean & DeLuca. Really.  I had no idea there was such a thing as used caviar, but I guess New Yorkers have all kinds of fanciness the rest of the nation knows nothing about.

My P.A. would have to do nothing of the sort.  First of all, we buy our underwear at Target.  Second, I don't even like caviar.  And third, no food in this house would ever be returned because it is generally eaten within 15 minutes of unpacking the groceries.  An added bonus for my P.A. would be never having to carry my bags as I'm kicked off Dancing with the Stars, and never having to escort me to my daughter's latest court hearing. (Knock wood.)

Primarily, I need someone to play Lego Star Wars with Little Dude for a couple hours a day. This would free up enough of my time and brain cells that I could research more about Little Dude's rights under Texas Education Law.  Also, I love playing with my son, but I have to admit, I'm getting bored with the Lego Star Wars.  We've completed the game twice already.  Also, the "Mos Espa Podrace" level makes me feel like I'm going to throw up.

I also need someone to go grocery shopping with me.  Not to carry the bags.  I need someone else to put the cart (or "buggy" as they say in West Texas) back in the cart rack.  I have a deep fear that after I've loaded the kids and groceries into the car, I'll put away the grocery cart, and on my way back to my van, I'll get run over by a Crawtators delivery truck.  And my kids will still be in my van, and no one will know they're there.  What, you're not worried about that?  Well, I bet you are now.  You're welcome. Yes, I could leave the grocery cart in the middle of the parking lot, but that makes me feel all guilty and icky inside.

So you see how I need help.  I need personal assistance.

Another thing I need help with is the freaking laundry.  I just cannot get on top of the laundry situation.  Although maybe if I had a personal assistant to play Lego Star Wars with Little Dude, it would free me up.  But generally, if someone else could remember to move the wet laundry to the dryer, that would be awesome.  I have to keep re-running the same wash because I forget about the wet laundry, and it develops a sour smell that even my precious Febreze cannot fight.  I even have a fancy new washer that plays a little tune when the laundry is done, but I keep turning the sound off at bedtime, and then I forget that the laundry is going, and I forget that I turned the sound off.  Two days later the kids have no underpants and the laundry room smells like a litter box.

Also, I could have used help at the dentist's office today.  Autism and electric oral instruments to not mix.  Maybe if someone else could have built Little Dude a Lego Death Star while I pinned him down, that would have worked.  Instead, I came home covered in fluoride treatment and drool, with a pinched nerve in my neck.

By fourth grade,  Cookie will have surpassed my math knowledge, so maybe a P.A. could help her with her homework.  Did you know they don't call it "borrowing" in subtraction any more?  It's now called "regrouping."  How are parents supposed to know this? 

Being my P.A. would be the best job ever.  It would be all Legos and sunshine and lollipops. Except it would also be the lowest-paying job ever. And the benefits would be limited to diet Coke and peanut butter sandwiches.  Oooh wait -- I just figured it out.  I need an intern. But until any of this happens, I guess I will have to rely on my regular assistant, coffee.

Here is a video of how I imagine it would be in my minivan if I had a personal assistant.