Steps to Being Kim Johnson


Steps to being Kim Johnson

First, reconsider. But somebody has to do it. So…

1 Be born to a Southern Baptist preacher in seminary who plops you down on his desk in the middle of all his open books and speaks to you in Hebrew. Just smile and coo. 

2 Accept that you will always be in trouble somewhere- even when you’re not in trouble everywhere. The church shares joint custody of PKs.

3 Love dogs. Want them all – even ones that aren’t yours to have. 

4 But reject cats. Your DNA makes no sense why this is so. It just is.

5 Be accident prone! Fall off houses and out of trees and get thrown off of strange bareback horses you had no business riding in the first place. Then lie about how it happened. No…..wait. Be a creative storyteller. Yes! A mystery writer with a less incriminating plot. 

4 Don’t pay attention in math class. It’s boring as all hell and you’re never going to be successful at it, anyway. You can’t even count. 

5 Grow up on two Atlantic Coast islands. Learn to crab, fish, swim, ski, and how not to drown in a “for real” undertow – not just the one you’re living in. 

7 Have a little bratty brother who finds less trouble than you but who always gets caught. Write a book about him one day and tell all the family secrets – well most, anyway. You’ll be friends for life. 

10 Don’t listen. Do it your way, the way your friends say. What does family know, anyway? Throw a wedding with the wrong one, then see what family knew. Get a divorce and be grateful for three good things that came of it – your children. 

7 Listen. Consider your family’s nod. They tell truths others won’t risk. Marry the right one – the one who calls you the love of his life and is the only man on the face of the earth who could possibly ever mean it. Love that man to pieces! 

8 Move to the Johnson Funny Farm. Have dogs – lots and lots of dogs. Realize you are far more successful at parenting dogs than you ever were at parenting humans. 

9 Read. Write. Teach. Travel. Blog. Enjoy too many sweets. Wave a tearful goodbye to your thyroid, wipe your eyes, and then throw away that Kleenex! 

10 Realize at your mother’s death that your dad has reverted to speaking Hebrew. Pray that you can find him his own Schnoodle puppy who speaks all languages of the heart. Call your partner-in-crime brother who still loves you and devise a tag-teaming delivery plan: a surprise Schnoodle attack. 

11 FaceTime the delivery. Just smile and coo in Hebrew. Grab five more Kleenex – one for letting the puppy be someone else’s, and one for your dad’s happy Hebrew heart!

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