I hate these mornings. My

My mother just vacuumed the entire house in eleven minutes. I timed it. When a People Magazine crew is going to be in your house in one hour there's no finesse, just some crazy woman jabbing the business end of the vacuum every which way, the hose wrapped around her neck.

The first pot of coffee is gone before I wake up. It must all be in my mother. She yelled, "Jump! Jump!" and made me jump over the vacuum so that she wouldn't have to slow down.

I was looking for the toaster. She's hidden it again. It's such an ugly toaster. Old. Cheap. My mother always hides it when reporters come over. Always.

A boy still needs his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the morning.

At nine it's the photo crew, here to take photos of my family nice and early-like... we're like any American family really. Up at eight. Makeup at nine. Photos at ten.

I had no sleep last night.

The reporter shows up at noon.

I want to go back to sleep.

There's another magazine shoot at the end of the month. Women's Day Magazine. We'll hide the toaster again.