footie pajamas

footie pajamasI would like to take a second today to throw out an invitation. It’s not just any invitation, it’s an invitation to the cool kid’s table. OK, so maybe it’s not actually the cool kid’s table (do cool kids where zebra footie pajamas?). Maybe it’s the table that’s right next to the cool kid’s table. And maybe all the kids sitting there are stealing sideways glances (and sometimes just straight up gaping) at the cool kid’s table while they slowly chew their sandwiches and lick the orange Dorito dust off their fingers.

What I’m trying to say is, come on over. Sit with me. Stay awhile. Spill. your. beans.

I know you’re there. Not only can I feel you lurking, but there’s this thing called site stats. These magical little numbers tell you how many people are coming to your blog. And they tell you how many of them poke around. And where they look. So I know that you’re there. In the shadows. Watching me. Silently. I seeeeee yooooooou.

Come out! Talk to me. That’s why I do this in the first place. I’m a chronic oversharer. We know that. But I need some friends to overshare with me. I don’t want to be all by my lonesome out here. I need a posse. Like the cool kids have.

I make really good brownies. And since I can’t eat gluten anymore there will actually be some left for you to eat. Do you take bribes? If so, sit. Take a bite. Tell me your secrets. Delurk! Tell me an amusing and/or embarrassing story about yourself and I’ll love you for life! I don’t bite, I promise!

Or don’t. Just make sure you say hi once in awhile. You know, so I don’t feel like the crazy lady sitting in the corner talking to herself. 😉

PS If you have a blog, what do you do to pull people out of the shadows?

Written by Jennifer Garry
Jen is a freelance writer and girl mom from New York. When she's not knee-deep in glittery crafts and girl talk, you can probably find her sprawled across her couch in the middle of a Netflix marathon with dark chocolate smeared on her face. The struggle is real.