But I began to think. (Always trouble, that.) What do I want to do before I die? Ride a pony. Certainly. Fly to the moon on gossamer wings? Duh! But lately there has been an all consuming need taking over my life and giving me reason to get up every day. It is an impossible dream to be sure. What is my secret dream? What MUST I do before I die?

Simple, kitten. I MUST have Jill Sobule's baby! Baby, what am I saying? I must be crazy. Let's start again. I must have Jill Sobule's babies. Twins. Girls, I think. Yes, I know it is a impossible thing. What with me closing in on middle age like George W. on heartless. At my age there is real danger in carrying the babies to term but -- well, I just have this dream! And no one can tell me no. I just know I'd be a good wife and a grand mommy.

I'll just put my head down, line up on the windmills of reality with my lance and ride my horse at full speed -- even as Sancho Panza sits on his ass muttering, "Oh, you dumb bitch."

But I see the faces of our lovely daughters. Aww. What with my massive dyslexia and irrational obsessive behavior and Jill's Attention Deficit Disorder and fierce independence, well, how can our daughters not help but be so --- so special. Trish and Julie. (Oh, yes, I've named them!) Trish and Julie and our dog, Checkers, will be such a gift to the world.

Tears well up as I think about the grand family portraits we'll pose for. I, down to my last ounce of patience, tell Trish to please stop pulling Checker's ears. Jill, her beehive hairdo just a little lopsided, adjusts her respectable cloth coat and forces a smile for the camera.

Years later, I see Jill gasping in horror as she finds our, now teenage, Trish with a joint. Ripping it out of Trish's hand, Jill growls in disgust, "Who the hell taught you to roll a joint like THAT? Let mommy show you how it's done!"

But I know it is all an illusion. Such sweet mother and daughter bonding won't last. I see the sad day clearly when Trish will break both our hearts. She will walk in one day, look at us so seriously and confess the horrible secret we never even suspected; "Mom -- and mom -- I've become a Republican."

Jill hits the floor like a bag full of tasered rats. And me? I just cry -- real tears. I really thought it would turn out better.