So I was watching Oprah yesterday during nap time and I was more or less half paying attention while waiting for the stars of Juno to be interviewed -- yes, I was eating bon bons and reading Good Housekeeping at the time, what of it? -- and the boss lady was chatting with fallen sprinter Marion Jones about injecting herself with former East German olympians before races, or something equally performance enhancing like that. It was all kind of vague and mentally diluted by too much sugar, chocolate and my own performance enhancing program (oh come on, Wednesday is the day for business time; everyone knows that).
But then, suddenly, I was hooked. Couldn't look away. Turns out Jones has to serve some time in prison for lying to federal investigators about steroid use, and Oprah wanted to know if Jones had told her 4-year-old son about mommy's upcoming "vacation."
And the look on Jones face ... ugh, it was the poster for anti-lying campaigns, it was just so sad. She hadn't told her son yet -- yes, she went on Oprah and told the world -- but I'm not judging. That is going to be one tough-ass talk, and I don't envy her postion. Six months is a long time to be out "running errands."
So in the spirit of helping her out, here's a new kind of playdate -- prison playdate, if you will. How, exactly, does one tell a young child about upcoming prison time? Comment here or post on your own blog and let me know; I'll link to it here. Just please, be careful in the laundry room.
