…I was out of town. To be precise, I was in Puerto Penasco, Mexico with nine high school senior girls and four other, presumably uninterrupted, moms.

Now, when I called T-Mobile to secure international service, the very helpful rep, Paula, confessed that nothing sounded more exotic than being in a place called Puerto Penasco and she professed her undying envy that she was stuck in Georgia.

And I guess that it is, actually, a little exotic. To Phoenicians, it’s just Rocky Point, the closest thing we have to a beach. I had only been there once before, on a trip that was quickly and mercifully forgotten, and so it seemed a little exotic to me, to tell you the truth.

But you haven’t lived until you’ve chaperoned nine beautiful girls who were raised in the emotional equivalent of Mayberry on a trip to a place where nine out of ten men won’t “STEP AWAY FROM THE GIRLS. YOU ARE TOO CLOSE TO THE GIRLS” unless you use a cattle prod.

So I’m a little tired.

While I was out, I managed to write the monthly column, and here ’tis: Mom, Interrupted – April, 2008