Rufus stops in daily here at the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse; he is somewhere around my age – that is, to say, “He’ll never see 60 again.” He’s a professor on sabbatical and likes to bring his laptop into the PBC to use our Wi-Fi and have the facts at hand when a question comes up – whether it have to do with geographical information or who played what role in that movie in 1953. Of course, they often can’t recall the title so Rufus and his buddies, of whom I count myself, join in adding remembered plot twists and so forth into the Google search engine.

Today, though, he announced one of his former students had become a “mommy blogger” and we all decided to see what she had to say. Well, Rufus was not surprised to learn she wrote her entries as she had written her essays – lots of detail and excellent grammar. A lot of information.  Clever. However, as he read and as we read over his shoulder – or followed along on our own laptops – it became apparent her “lots of information” responses have become “too much information.” Oh, yeah. A lot of too much information.

Right now there’s a lot of talk about baby (excuse me) poop and pots to pee in. We are wondering what these bloggers will write about when they get to be our age – constipation, Depends and gallbladders?