Am I Just a Lucky SOB of a Blogger?

While I was at BlogHer (I know, I know! Enough already about your little love fest, called BlogHer!) I listened to many women bloggers talk about hate mail. The nasty comments they get about their parenting skills, life choices, children and more. Then yesterday I was reading my friend Kristen's blog and read a nastygram that she had received regarding a recent post of hers and it dawned on me.

It's been ages since I received any hate mail. What does that say about me I began to wonder? Am I that middle of the road? Do my readers just adore me that much?! Heh. Am I that boring or am I just that lucky? They say you have really made it when the masses decide to turn on you, but then again they also say no news is good news. Does that apply to evil commenter's too?

Really, the last time I received anything mildly inflammatory was when I quit my desk job and a few co-workers found the blog and decided to pounce. Sadly, they were anonymous and didn't have anything really of note to say. It got boring fast. I once made a comment about Catholic guilt and that riled someone up good (she told me she never wanted the misfortune of reading me again.) but that's been it. It seems everyone must agree with me and my perspective.
I'm even going to assume that everyone has Joan Crawford days like me. Which by the way, if you want to further dispel that Mommie Dearest myth you simply must read, Not the Girl Next Door, by Charlotte Chandler. No wire hangers, indeed.

I guess you all believe in limited television for children, seeing the fun side of Darth Vader, liberal politics and retro parenting. Also, drinking while pregnant, beating small animals and laughing at small children while they cry.

Excuse me, while I go out to buy a carton of Winston lights for T.D. and myself. We're running a bit low and we have a possible road trip in our future. A road trip where I will be sure to let her consume at least two BIG GULPS in under two hours and will ignore all potty requests. What's a little urine in the car seat, right?