the smell of my desperation has become a stench

Of dares and double-dog dares

So last week I get a call from a producer at the Bonnie Hunt show, and after we talk for a few minutes she says, “Do you think you could show Kourtney Kardashian how to change a diaper?”

Just let that sink in for a second.

I twittered my thoughts about it earlier, but I never thought that teaching Kourtney Kardashian how to change a diaper was on my lifelist, but THERE IT IS. Right up there with chest-bumping Danny DeVito and seeing if I can get Martha Stewart to hold my gum while I taste test her trademark homemade sorbet.

So that’s what I’m doing tonight during a taping of the show that airs I believe on Thursday, and I’ll let you know if there are any changes to that schedule. But that’s not even what this post is about, although I could probably just end it right there: you guys, I get to meet Kourtney Kardashian today and teach her how to wipe someone else’s butt. WHAT DID YOU DO TODAY?

Let’s just hope it’s not one of Marlo’s diapers, DO NOT EVEN GET ME STARTED on what that kid did as our flight was descending into LAX. And because I had changed both of her blow-out messes last time we did this three weeks ago, it was Jon’s turn to maneuver his abnormally large body plus dripping poopy diaper inside that claustrophobic air hole they call an airplane bathroom. Let’s just call it what it really is: an upright coffin.

Thing is, he was taking forever, and I wasn’t even worried that maybe he’d banged his head against the wall and blacked out because of the turbulence. No. No, I was just hoping, praying that when he came to and realized where he was and walked back to his seat that he wouldn’t make eye contact with Peter Frampton.

Half of my audience just went, who?

Dude, PETER FUCKING FRAMPTON. A quick wikipedia search will tell you that his album Frampton Comes Alive was the top selling album of 1976, and my most vivid memory of him, really, is listening to this certain adult contemporary radio station in Memphis on rainy Sunday afternoons in the 80’s and singing, “Baby, I love your way” really loudly into a hairbrush with a backdrop of pink and teal flowered wallpaper. I’m sure that’s the exact scenario he had hoped that song would inspire, right after world peace.

But he played a HUGE influence in Jon’s childhood. ENORMOUS. Here, let me let Jon tell you in his own words:

Summer. 1977. My older brother Tom brought home Frampton Comes Alive. My first time ever being allowed to touch a double album. I was in love with “Do You Feel Like We Do” and would put on headphones (that we bought for my dad for his birthday; a sweet pair of vented Koss) and assume the position of drummer or of Frampton himself. I knew every note. The little riff on the Fender before the crowd roar as Peter went for the talkbox and started teasing with a few Do You Feels before releasing with Like We Do and the crowd roaring approval. I first faked the drum parts via air drumming and then later did stellar air guitar work. I wore that album out, but I was very careful to clean it before and after playing so my brother would be none the wiser. That album was my first leap into thinking that I could possibly one day play music in front of people.

So when we find out that he is sitting two rows in front of us on the plane to LA, both Jon and I instinctually Twitter the hell out of it as we’re sitting in the terminal, and I’m joking that I’m going to start singing “Baby, I love your way” while we board, because I BET HE’S NEVER HAD TO ENDURE THAT from a stranger.

And Jon is talking about how he’s trying to force me to keep my shirt on, and I’m all BUT MY NURSING BRA, SO HOTT, and someone replied back, really? you have a hot nursing bra? And guys, I only have one that fits me the right way, so even if it was hot back when I started wearing it twelve weeks ago, I’m guessing the frayed straps and sagging elastic make it look less like something you’d find at Victoria’s Secret and more like something you’d see Meatloaf using to wipe the sweat off of his forehead.

And that’s when I casually glance over my shoulder and see Peter Fucking Frampton SITTING RIGHT THERE BEHIND US in the terminal. And he’s on his laptop. And he’s looking at Twitter.

Slllooooooowww moooootionnnnn, oooohhhhh nooooooo.



Jon starts doing the satan ventriloquist thing where his lips aren’t moving, and he’s going FIND HIM ON TWITTER RIGHT NOW, WOMAN. So I do a quick search and, phew! He doesn’t follow me or Jon, as if he ever would, I know, but the feeling was still one of a close call. Except at the time, if he had done a search on his name he would have seen all the replies of people urging and double-dog-daring me to karaoke his music as we board the plane. Note: I couldn’t bring myself to do it. In theory, a great idea, right? In reality, the making of a total douchebag.

So we get settled into our seats, and we’re both checking our phones before they close the cabin doors and tell us that we have to turn off all electronic equipment, and right then I get a direct message from one of our Internet friends nemeses, Mike Monteiro. And he says that if I can get a picture of Peter Frampton holding a “I hate Mike Monteiro” sign then he’ll give me free T-shirts for life (see selection here, we already own a few, including the utterly tasteless “Jackson 4” shirt that I wear around the house when I don’t want to put on a nursing bra, and Tito ends up crying tears of milk all day long, bless his heart.)

Jon looks at me, and I look at Jon, and after maneuvering the baby around a bit, we find a pen and I MacGyver a sign on a drink napkin:

Delta Airline cocktail napkin

It takes me a few minutes to get the nerve up, but I finally hold my breath, hop down the aisle a bit and there I am face to face with Peter Frampton. And next thing you know, I can barely even remember, I’m frantically going MY HUSBAND IS A HUGE FAN AND I LIKE YOU TOO AND WE HAVE THIS FRIEND WHO HAS A CRIMINAL RECORD AND MIGHT CUT ME IN THE THROAT IF I DON’T GET HIM A PHOTO, DO YOU THINK—

And he politely cuts me off and says, “Not now, please, maybe later.”

Oh you guys, I don’t think I have ever been more mortified. MORTIFIED. I felt so stupid, so so so dumb, DUMBITY DUMB DUMB, and spent the entire plane ride jabbing that pen into my skull. So when we’re landing and Marlo shits all over herself and Jon, all I can think is, oh God, please Jon, whatever you do, please do not look at Frampton! DON’T DO IT! LOOK DOWN, LOOK DOWN! And what does he do? HE GRINS AT FRAMPTON. He GRINNED! At FRAMPTON!

And then after landing as everyone is gathering up their luggage I do nothing but avoid looking anywhere near his direction. That’s it. I spent a good ten minutes of my life avoiding eye contact with Peter Frampton. Whoever is in charge at the time, I want that on my tombstone.

And after we get our stroller and car seat and are taking our time walking toward baggage claim, we keep going back and forth about how dumb I feel, and Jon’s all DUDE! PETER FRAMPTON! He’s still reminiscing about that summer in 1977 unaware that I want to shrivel up and die, and OH MY GOD, I am not even kidding, when we get to the baggage claim Peter Frampton is the only one from our flight standing around the carousel. Turns out God doesn’t just like to fuck with you through your appliances. He likes to fuck with you through Frampton.

I immediately sprint with the stroller and the baby to a remote hiding place behind a column next to the door, thinking, okay, he’ll never see me here, and Jon! OH MY GOD! JON! MY HUSBAND. FATHER OF MY CHILDREN. HE WALKS UP TO FRAMPTON. And I’m screaming whispers from my hiding place, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! STOP! STOP! And I can’t hear anything from where I’m standing, but dear lord god in heaven, my husband is over there right in front of Frampton playing air guitar, swaying his hips, and pumping his hand in the shape of devil horns above his head.

Please just picture that in your head.

Remember, Jon is six feet three inches tall, weighs sixty pounds when he’s soaking wet, and his hair looks like Kramer’s.

I think I fell over dead, or maybe I just blacked out, but I don’t remember at least five minutes of my life. The sweat on my upper lip was so thick that I could have poured it into a 64-oz Big Gulp and had enough left over to water my yard.

And just as I come to, just as my vision starts to correct itself, I look up right as Frampton is exiting the terminal with his family not two feet in front of me. And you guys, this still doesn’t seem real, I’m still processing what happened, but right then he lifted up his right arm and waved at Jon. And then he stopped a few inches in front of Marlo’s stroller and said, “You have a beautiful baby there.”

Marlo, honey, do you have any idea how many 45-yr-old men are insanely jealous of you as this moment? FRAMPTON ACKNOWLEDGED YOU.

We talked about pretty much nothing else yesterday, Jon every other minute singing another Frampton song, pretending to play guitar, sending email to all his high school buddies going, LOOK AT ME NOW! And then when we climbed into bed at the hotel to settle in for the night, Jon frantically poked my snoozing body and said, DUUUUUUUUDE LOOOOOOOK!

Long story to say no, sadly, I didn’t get Mike his sign, so he’s going to have to settle for this:

  • PJ

    2009/09/08 at 12:49 pm

    When was this? Because I saw just saw him Saturday night in New Lenox, IL! I was making fun of it all along (my cousin lives there), because Peter Frampton in New LENOX? C’mon! But it was an amazing show!

  • Shiri

    2009/09/08 at 12:48 pm

    Amazing. He made it up to you!

  • Katy

    2009/09/08 at 12:49 pm


    Frampton lives in my city, so I have met him a couple of times at fundraiser or two. The first time I met him, I drunkenly asked him “Do you feel like we do, Mr. Frampton”.

    I woke up the next morning and strolled the walk of shame for about a month after that….

    Anyhoodle, Frampton lives in Cincinnati and Clapton in Columbus…. Everyone is from Ohio.

  • Daddy Scratches

    2009/09/08 at 12:44 pm

    After having my own recent “make yourself look like a douchebag in front of a rock star” moment, I can say that I feel your pain.

    P.S.: Did Jon accompany his air-guitar session with a squawk-box impression? Because that really would have made the moment complete.

  • Tabitha (From Single to Married)

    2009/09/08 at 12:47 pm

    Love that story! And so glad he ended up being a decent guy after the “not now thanks” comment on the plane! Besides, how could he not think Marlo is beautiful?

  • ~Michelle~

    2009/09/08 at 12:47 pm

    No freakin’ joke, guess what song is on the radio as I read this blog post?

    Yep, “Baby, I love your way”

  • Colleen

    2009/09/08 at 12:47 pm

    That’s one of the best celebrity encounters I’ve ever heard! And clearly, now it’s official that Marlo is gorgeous.

  • Sam

    2009/09/08 at 12:50 pm

    Now really, how could Mike object to that? Marlo is beautiful 🙂

  • Anonymous

    2009/09/08 at 12:51 pm

    OMG that rocks!!! I’m pretty sure having Peter Frampton tweet about you is five steps above having him hold a napkin with Sharpie. You should get free shirts for life!!!

  • Megan

    2009/09/08 at 12:53 pm

    Marlo’s looking like, seriously, I do hate him.

  • The Prima Momma

    2009/09/08 at 12:53 pm

    AAAAHHHHHHHHHH!! Peter Frampton. So I guess he follows you guys on Twitter now huh? You realize that means he will see this post? I bet he’s a cool enough cat to send you that I hate Mike pic after all…
    I double dog dare him to.

  • Labradoris

    2009/09/08 at 12:55 pm

    You still rock, hard-core. Loved the visual imagery.

  • es

    2009/09/08 at 12:55 pm

    Classic! My oldest niece and I saw Gene Simmons in the airport about two years ago. She looks at me and says, “Who’s that dude? I know he’s famous but I don’t know who he is.” So I say, “That’s Gene Simmons…from KISS.” And she’s all, “What’s KISS?”. So I say, “You know, the guy with the big tongue.” And she proceeds to stick her tongue all the way out and throw up her rock&roll horn fingers in the air as we are about five feet away from him. I never felt so awkard in all my life.

  • Mike Monteiro

    2009/09/08 at 12:56 pm

    I am a fan of everyone mentioned in this article except myself.

  • erika

    2009/09/08 at 12:56 pm

    right on, Marlo! I’m guessing Frampton needs you to show him the way…everyday.

  • Michelle Baxter

    2009/09/08 at 12:56 pm

    Hey Heather! Frampton lives right here in Cincinnati! After reading your post, I have a new found appreciation for him. Perhaps I will stalk him in his Indian Hill neighborhood…SO JUST KIDDING!!!!! He’s awesome.

    PS – My little girls can’t get enough of the video of Marlo burping…”Play it agian, Mom! She’s so cute!”

  • Ashley

    2009/09/08 at 12:57 pm

    Haha, what a fantastic story. Have you ever had anyone fangirl herself all over you like that? Because I would totally be the same way if I saw you sitting two rows behind me on an airplane!

  • Michelle Baxter

    2009/09/08 at 12:58 pm

    PS – The Jackson 4….hilarious. Thanks for sharing that website!

  • Liz C

    2009/09/08 at 12:58 pm

    And here I thought I was the only one who turned into a pile of puppy piss in the presence of celebrity.

    BTW, I can’t get over how Marlo is losing that newborn look already. In the last pic I swear I recognized some of Leta.

  • Meredith Quick

    2009/09/08 at 1:00 pm

    I am embarrassed with you. Not that you did anything that required crawling into a hole. But I would have wanted to crawl in a hole too.

    It’s like watching an episode of The Office. Sometimes you’re so uncomfortable, you just have to leave the room.

  • Lisa

    2009/09/08 at 1:01 pm

    The dude who played bass on Frampton Comes Alive…Stanley Sheldon…is currently teaching my oldest son to play bass here in Kansas. I was all kinds of excited…Frampton was my first rock and roll crush. My first concert when I was like 14…a Summer Jam spectacular with Styx and Steve Miller Band!

  • Serial

    2009/09/08 at 1:01 pm

    Who loves the internet? Frampton loves the internet.

  • Sarah

    2009/09/08 at 1:01 pm

    Love how his twitter is all, “yeah I spoke with dooce!” when in reality there was no conversation between the two of you. Or… does complimenting your child count? I don’t know how that stuff works with mothers and their babies. 🙂

  • Vicki

    2009/09/08 at 1:02 pm

    You totally interrupted Frampton while he was editing a track for his new CD!!!!


  • Suzy

    2009/09/08 at 1:03 pm

    My idol was Lucille Ball and once me and my bf got into an elevator at the Milton Berle roast in NY and she and her husband Gary were in there alone. MY BOYFRIEND’S NAME WAS GARY. I was having multiple strokes until MY Gary, or BAD Gary, hissed in my ear “Don’t bother her, you know how many people bother her? Would YOU want to be bothered that much?”

    And in my head I’m saying “Yes, because I hate you, Bad Gary.”

    I never talked to her.

  • Snarkmeister

    2009/09/08 at 1:03 pm

    Not five minutes after I read this, Baby I Love Your Way came on the XM radio channel I was listening to. True story.

  • Tehmi

    2009/09/08 at 1:05 pm

    Thank you so much for the making yourself look like a douchebag moment, I followed it faithfully on twitter.

    Love it!


    2009/09/08 at 1:06 pm

    Does her mother not know how to change one? Guess it makes for rating points when it’s done on tv.

  • Jennine

    2009/09/08 at 1:07 pm

    Peter who?

  • Kristan

    2009/09/08 at 1:08 pm

    I’m sorry to Jon, because I also don’t know Frampton outside of “Baby I love your way,” BUT HOLY COW MARLO IS SO CUTE WITH THAT SIGN! That’s got to be better than Frampton holding it. That’s got to be worth AT LEAST half a lifetime of free t-shirts!

  • MustangSally

    2009/09/08 at 1:09 pm

    This may finally be the story that gets me on twitter. So long as I don’t have to sign up for facebook to do it. Ten bucks there will be a new song with “Marlo” in the title coming soon…

  • Jill Put Up A Blog

    2009/09/08 at 1:10 pm

    How cool is that? I would be freaking out too. What a crazy story.

  • Camian

    2009/09/08 at 1:11 pm

    I desperately want to know what John was saying while flailing around playing air guitar….

  • brandy

    2009/09/08 at 1:11 pm

    This post made me feel anxious. I was half expecting Frampton to end up with poop on him somehow.

    The recaptcha words are “the blunt”!

  • Jennifer M.

    2009/09/08 at 1:12 pm

    Best. Blog post. EVAHHHHH!!!

  • Kit

    2009/09/08 at 1:12 pm

    Your life is so deliciously fucked up! And I mean that in the most complimentary of ways.

  • Jennifer

    2009/09/08 at 1:12 pm

    Awesome! But I’m just as thrilled about you on the Bonnie Hunt show. I’m such a nerd, but I love her! (“Aaand we’re walking…”).

  • Katie

    2009/09/08 at 1:13 pm

    THAT IS SO FUCKING AWESOME. Your children are adorable… and I just wanted to say, I have had a huge urge to take your face between my hands and give you the biggest kiss ever because I learned your glow-y photo trick the day I started putting together my wedding album. THANK YOU! You are great.

  • Chriss

    2009/09/08 at 1:14 pm

    I rolled when I saw your twitter post about Frampton looking at his twitter page. I just knew it was going to go somewhere fun from there.

    And I love Frampton but doesn’t he realize YOU ARE #26, my bitch?


  • Adriana of AZ

    2009/09/08 at 1:14 pm

    So, aside from having famous parents, Littel Marlo gets to say that Peter Frampton said she is beautiful AND she also gets to say that a Kardashian changed her diaper (if I understood that correctly)…Lucky gal.

  • tracy

    2009/09/08 at 1:15 pm

    You would be my Frampton. I would totally have had to work up the nerve to speak to you and OH GOD THE HORROR of actually asking you for a photo, and I surely would have died a slow & very painful death if you denied me.

    Lucky for me, when I did meet you, it was at a venue where it was perfectly acceptable to speak to you (Powell’s) and even then I was literally shaking in my shoes. I asked you for a hug & you were gracious enough to oblige, although I think I might have leaned in before you had a chance to say okay. Wouldn’t THAT have been embarrassing if you said no. You even said, twice I think, that my baby was cute.

    I flew in from Alaska for your signing and almost vomited when they made the announcement that the reading was at capacity & I wouldn’t get in. I waited in line for the signing & met some really fabulous people in the meantime. Thank you for being so amazing in person. To tell you face-to-face that you saved my life was….priceless. Something I will never forget. I don’t know how, but if I could ever repay the favor….

  • Jessie

    2009/09/08 at 1:15 pm

    So funny! Great story. 🙂

  • Jessica

    2009/09/08 at 1:15 pm

    “God fucks with you through Frampton.”

    My new favorite sentence.

  • Joseph

    2009/09/08 at 1:15 pm

    What a great story to be able to tell. I’ll be seeing Oooh Baby all day long now. You two rock.

    That image at the end is priceless.

  • Rita T.

    2009/09/08 at 1:16 pm

    So Awesome!

  • Anonymous

    2009/09/08 at 1:16 pm

    Holy SHIT that story was fucking AWESOME!

  • Margie

    2009/09/08 at 1:18 pm

    Marlo definately is starting to look like her big sister. . only the eyes are different color . . you two make beautiful babies. .

  • Peggy

    2009/09/08 at 1:19 pm

    I love you…. nuff said!

  • Brooke

    2009/09/08 at 1:20 pm

    Frampton is right. She is absolutely beautiful! I happened to be on twitter last night and saw your “tweets”. So funny. I totally would have been hiding in the corner with you, sweating profusely from embarrassment.

  • Shelly

    2009/09/08 at 1:20 pm

    OMG……I seriously think that Peter Frampton is the reason I have a penchant for young, slender men with LONG ASS hair.

    Oh, yes, ladies. I am from the 80’s, and also had a thing for Michael Bolton.

    Oh, yea. Peter Frampton.


    sorry…….I get so little excitement in my life!!

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Heather B. Armstrong

Hi. I’m Heather B. Armstrong, and this used to be called mommy blogging. But then they started calling it Influencer Marketing: hashtag ad, hashtag sponsored, hashtag you know you want me to slap your product on my kid and exploit her for millions and millions of dollars. That’s how this shit works. Now? Well… sit back, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

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