One of the cool things about that dandy new green Lijit search bar in my right column is the ability to see what people are searching for on my site.

Which is not to be confused with what people are searching for to get to my site.

(Let’s just say I am proud to appear in the first natural Google results for “big buts.” Only I’m afraid the searchers will be disappointed when they arrive on a post about pregnancy and toxoplasmosis and not some sort of flabby ass porn. Sucks for you. Learn to spell.)

So I was interested to learn that there have been quite a few searches on Mom-101 recently for “old flame” and “ex-lover.” And I’m trying to discern exactly which old flame or ex-lover (ew, as if I’d ever use that term ever in a zillion years) is so vain as to think this song is about him.

In a way, I feel like I’ve disappointed the poor guy, who came all the way here just to find the most trivial references to talking toys and magic breakfast cereal and midwestern hair but nothing about the glorious weeks and months we may have spent in each other’s blissful companionship.

So this one’s for you, Seth, Andrew, Doug, Scott, David, Lex, Michael, Paul, Brian, Jim, Jim, Jimmy, James, the other Jim, and whatshisname from summer camp:

Oh baby. You were the best. No really. I think about you day and night and have to stop myself from writing bad poetry to you every free moment I get. In fact, for the last [you fill in the number here] years, I’ve had this recurring dream about you, me, three other women, and some artificially flavored whipped dairy topping. Also? Yes, I am the same weight now as I was [you fill in the number here] years ago when we dated, and my boobs haven’t changed a bit. Too bad things never worked out.

Now, back to your regularly scheduled complaining about lack of sleep.

[photo: joel hall for redbubble]