For nearly four years, I’ve been writing about – well, life. Life through my funny eyes. And for nearly four years, you’ve laughed along. You’ve cheered our ups (potty training) and sympathized in our downs (Beloved Beagle’s passing). You’ve roared over our marital tangles and an admittedly feminine interpretation of the Super Bowl.
You’ve chortled, shouting, “Thumbs up!” when I’ve tackled politics. You’ve chuckled, murmuring, “That’s just how it is,” when I talk about the hundred and one things that spike a mother’s blood pressure. I suspect (but cannot prove) that you’ve prayed a few “thank God it’s not me” prayers when you hear what happens on a daily basis in our back yard.
You’ve laughed and you’ve cried (you’ve told me so) ’cause you know how it feels when a kid goes to college and the toilet backs up and you hear that first tinkle and where do all the socks go anyway? You’ve been great.
Now I need your help. It’s time to put a name to this whole shootin’ match. In light of the fact that I’m wanting to take this thing national (that’s the dream), I’ve been advised by a professional that it simply must have a name. So let’s do it.
The name I love, but, of course, can never have, is the one that legendary humorist Erma Bombeck used, “At Wit’s End.” It describes to a “T” how this mother often feels, but that was her brand, her trademark, her show. And since I have no desire to sit down for coffee with her lawyers, we’ll leave that one alone.
It got me thinking, though, of the whole ‘crazy’ theme, the insanity that drives me to the coffee shop. For a couple of weeks now, The Mister and I have been rolling names and phrases around. I’m going to get brave (deep breath here) and throw out some of the things we’re toying with and see what you think. I’m asking you, too, to throw back any ideas, tweaks, suggestions you have, and I mean any. You never know what word or phrase will spark another idea that will make that light bulb flare and make this writer shout, “Aha!”
Playing with the “insanity” theme, we’ve talked about these:
In Sanity’s Grip
Nine Miles to Sanity (which is about how far my beloved coffee shop is)
On Grounds of Insanity
Knowing of my love for coffee, which is a common theme throughout the column, a friend of mine tells me that she thinks the name should have something coffee-ish in it. Which is when I thought of that last one.
So talk to me. Hit me with your best shot(s). Throw it all at the wall and let’s see what sticks.
For the one who comes up with the winning name or the idea that sparks the winning name, I will send you a pound of (what else?) coffee as a token of my undying gratitude and to help you restore and maintain your own sanity.
Ever so gratefully,