Claim to Fame...or not

I've been dying this past week. No, seriously. I have pneumonia. I also have three small children and a husband who require regular feedings, so I'm not getting much rest. And when I do lay down, all I do is cough.

And now I'll get to my point.

I've met only one famous person in my life (unless you count General Authorities, but that's another post). When I met this person, he had yet to become famous but it was still an interesting meeting. It took place one afternoon when I was in junior high. At that time, I was a cheerleader (please keep your burst of laughter to a minimum). One of my friends had her older brother come pick her up after school in his dumpy little truck and I'd hang out with her, waiting for my mom to come. So there I am, leaning on a truck, wearing my little cheerleader outfit, talking to my friend when her brother's friend who was sitting in the back of the truck decides to join our conversation. His name? Robert Van Winkle. He went to the local high school, so there was that "older guy" thing and he was cute. And he was a musician. Maybe you've heard of him? His stage name was/is Vanilla Ice.

Try not to swoon, ladies. And please don't let the jealousy and envy you must be experiencing ruin our bloggy friendship.

So why am I confessing all this? Well, I hadn't blogged in a couple days and was looking for something blog-worthy. It could also be because I just sent Mr. Ice a friend request on Facebook.

I'm chalking this one up to all the medication I'm taking.

(I'll let you know if I get a response...)