None of us do. I can’t think about it. Literally. This is going to be the world’s shortest post because I can’t stand the topic.

But, here we are literally pummeled with news of Michael Jackson’s death and the news that he left his kids to his mother, with Diana Ross as the backup. And I got reminded that we (not the world, but my wife and I) still haven’t dealt with this issue at all.

I don’t want to leave my kids ‘to’ anyone. They aren’t antique dishes. I can’t think of anyone that could do it right like we could. It kills me. Every time we try to talk about it, I end up in tears. And I’m not a crier.

Thinking about Madonna helps, and Rosie O’Donnell - because they’re okay (says someone who has NO earthly idea, but they seem to be doing well).

I always thought it would be my mom - and it still probably is, but she’s here with us for the summer and she’s 66 and she’s vocalized her overwhelment more than once. It’s their energy and the whining and the nakedness and the peeing outside (um, lady, you’re the one that bought them that cute little french book about a little boy that pees in the grass) and the food allergies and the laundry and the…

I can think of some friends who fit the bill - but they have busloads of their own kids. My brothers? Nah. My in-laws? No thanks.

I hate this. Just thought I’d say that out loud.

So? I just won’t die - until they’re old enough not to need their mother anymore - which is about 35 as far as I can tell. I’ll be 68. Seems reasonable. Okay universe???

If anyone wants to leaves me a comment saying that I have to just choose and be responsible, please don’t. I know. I really, really do. I just don’t wanna leave my kids, like I said before, period. They’re cute, they smell good and they say things like, “Please bring me a book and close the door, I need to poop in my own privacy.”

And I love them more than the world.

Update: The first friend that read this reamed me out so hard on Skype that I thought my computer would burst. We’re picking a guardian, the lawyer is drawing up the papers. As this ‘friend’ said - ‘just hold your nose and pick someone.’ Well, if you put it that way…

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