So, I get an email from a random internet user, and its your typical letter of adoration, but at the end, the sender added something that threw me. "What exactly qualifies you as a ninja? Do you do karate?"

I didn't answer the email because I'm an asshole like that, just reading emails and not answering them. Hey, at least I'm honest about it. But, I did think about the answer, and since I am a non-email-answering-asshole, I decided to make up for it and reply in this post. (Because I am not just a run of the mill asshole. I am also narcissistic.)


Dear Random Internet User,
Thank you for your kind email. I am flattered that you find me hilarious, but unfortunately, it isn't true. In real life, I'm dull as a doorknob. I've had people ask whether or not I had a lobotomy at some point in my life, because most of the time I sit around with a silly look on my face, often accompanied by drool. So while I appreciate your sense of humor, I am most disturbed that my every day life is so funny to you. Maybe it wouldn't be so funny if you lived it. Maybe you too would be cursed with children who swear and draw on walls. Maybe you too would have a completely OCD husband with a wrinkly old face. Maybe you'd make a penis cake or have a sick fascination with John Philip Sousa. Maybe you would even be possessed to write about pretty much nothing in a blog that follows absolutely no pattern whatsoever. No, Random Internet User, this is not a hilarious life I lead. Hysterical, maybe, but not in the way you probably intended.

Oh and that whole ninja thing? Nah. Totally not a ninja. I don't know karate or tae-kwon-do or jujitsu or even tae-bo for that matter. I did take a self defense class once, but I got kicked out for eating a blow-pop during drills. However, I think ninjas a really cool, and ninja is kind of a code word for "cool," and since I'm not all that cool but would like to be, I call myself a ninja.

I can still whoop your ass in a heartbeat, Random Internet User. Don't get me wrong. I can whoop your ass so fast you won't even see me. You will just be standing there, and then you will hear a sound like wah-shaaaa! and then all of a sudden your clothes will be all ripped and you will have a black eye and an "x" shaped band-aid on your cheek, and you won't even know what hit you. I will be two thousand miles away smoking a congratulatory cigarette in a New Mexico bar by the time you figured out what happened. Not that I would ever do that of course.

Thanks for your email. Sorry I am too much of an asshole to write you back. But hey, at least you are famous now.

Signed,
Super Ninja Mommy