There seems to be a slight discrepancy . . .

I went online this morning to put lunch money in my kids' accounts at school. I had dragged myself out of bed moments earlier, hadn't bothered to brush my hair or teeth, and was wearing a fluffy lavender terrycloth bathrobe as I sat down at the computer. Imagine my dismay when I learned, upon logging in to my account, that the average mom updating her child's account has her hair and makeup done, is sitting in front of a white iMac, sports a white, ribbed turtleneck in her white living room, and wears a provocative, thoughtful pout on her full lips. It looks like she's sitting there contemplating the fact that all her dishes are done, laundry's going, the 2.5 kids are off to school, and now all she has to do is think about what healthy meals they're going to be getting from the lunch ladies from here on out. She might also be thinking about how great it is that she's young and skinny and beautiful, and that's good for her kids' images.

Then I went to my bank account site just to make sure I actually had money to spend on school lunch. There I was shown that Average Zions Bank Account Holder takes her handsome husband and 2.5 children and goes hiking in the mountains and frolicking in the autumn leaves pretty much all the time, while resting assured that their money is being handled well. The moms look very much like School Lunch Mom, including their average weight of about 120 lbs. Sometimes they wear a chic little jacket over their ribbed turtleneck, in case they get cold. They have plenty of money for school lunch, or whatever else they may feel like purchasing that day.

When I went to eBay to check on some stuff I'd bid on for Christmas and anniversary gifts, the home page informed me that my husband will probably purchase a tiny little black lace teddy for me to wear on Christmas Eve, because that's what I want, and they're going to tell him. I envision myself cutting the thing up the sides just so I can fit it over my head. That ought to look really nice.

Yahoo says I'm lying on my white bed in my white underwear, using my white notebook to browse for stuff. I'm pretty happy about it, too. Hair and makeup are done, of course. Let's say I want to check my kids' grades. No problem. First I must be reminded that Average Alpine School District Parent couldn't be more proud about her Sterling Scholar's impending high school graduation. She is also beautiful, charming, put together, and married to Mr. Universe. If I need a recipe, I can get that too, with the click of a mouse. But you should know that most people are not planning what to fix for dinner tonight. They're already cooking ahead for Thanksgiving, which they will host in their all-white home. Oh, and they have perfect hair and makeup, as well as spotless kitchens.

Five or six mouse clicks later, when all I wanted to do was get my starving kids some food, I'm considering going back to bed and staying there. Forever. It was only when I finally took myself to my own blog that I felt comfortable. That's what I want to look at first thing in the morning: a picture of a dog. Now that's affirming. Whatever else happens, at least I'm not a dog.