I used to be calm. Cool. Collected.
But something happened when I got pregnant, and I lost complete control of my emotions. (And my bladder. But that’s a whole other post.)
Anything sad, sweet or remotely HUMAN – and I become a hubbering, blubbering mess.
I have not watched a single movie since Colt’s birth that hasn’t made me hyperventilate.
I cried at The Hangover.
I think big marketing agencies recruit women like me.
Pregnant, postpartum, menopausal, hysterectomied women – any female suffering from hormonal imbalance.
Basically all of us.
They sit them together in an agency board room, feed them chocolate donuts and strap electrodes to their brains.
The latest company to employ this tactic was Apple. Have you seen the new iPhone commercial?
Every time I see it, my heart swells.
Perhaps it’s the dainty piano melody in the background. The warm lighting. The little girl in her bunny suit. The dancing silhouettes of children in a corn field.
For some reason this commercial makes me proud to have an iPhone.
Like I’m sooooooo glad I don’t have a Metro PCS phone, which could NEVER capture life’s magical moments the way the iPhone can.
They both do the same exact thing.
How about that Folger’s commercial from 5 years ago that they KEEP playing every Christmas?
You know that one where Peter comes home from Christmas, and HE’S the present?
Ugh. I’m getting choked up just writing about it.
Was Winn Dixie responsible for bringing family Christmas to that working doctor who couldn’t make it home?
No, that was Publix, and my loyalty remains.
My husband is cold and heartless. He watches these commercials and is completely unaffected.
“Do you have no soul?” I ask him as snot runs down my face…
He looks at me.
Like I’m bat shit crazy.
He must wonder, as do I, is this going to get worse with age?
Could I one day become overwhelmed by such products as… Miller High Life? Motor oil? Viagra?
I’m so glad…sniffle, sniffle, when the time is right…that man can have an erection…sniffle…sniffle…