Connie the Cyber-Counsellor

Connie answers letters from troubled readers if she feels like it. Submit your letter to Connie the Cyber-Counsellor at
Bernadettewickersham@gmail.com.

Dear Connie, I have 5 sons and two sons in law, and a husband. They all are willing to help me out whenever I ask. Each has different talents and I take advantage of them whenever possible by flattering them and behaving as though I will hurt myself if I try to do the project myself.  Over the last few months, I've had, among other favors, trees cut down, automotive work, dishwasher installation, a new floor, new electric service, new water heater, and endless service calls to get my computer back up and running.
On August 28 I published a blog about my broken garbage disposer. It can be read at this link: Or you can skip it, as it lends nothing to this story.

http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3460265118502529212#editor/target=post;postID=5030441108337668082;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=49;src=postname

My son Charles immediately sent me a new disposer, which has been ever since in its box by the front door, unnoticed. When my husband started parking his briefcase on it, I moved it to the basement to hold the dryer door shut when I tumble my athletic shoes.

Yesterday morning a faithful reader of my blog showed up at the front door with tools in hand offering to install the new disposer. This volunteer shares a delicious resemblance to Mr. Clean, of cleaning fame. I couldn't resist his charm, or the thought of a disposer humming away under our sink, hungry for cucumber peelings and table scraps. He had it installed in minutes.

Connie, how can I be sure my Man-Team doesn't abandon me.  One of them happened by as Mr. Clean was finishing the installation and snapped, "Don't be calling me when that thing breaks!" I sensed I had offended his manhood or even broken the sacred bond between mother and handyman.
Help me out!
Prissy Bloggerbitch

Dear Prissy, You are right to be concerned. What kind of a ninny would risk the affection and mechanical ability of eight worthy men simply because a handsome handyman showed up at the door? You should be ashamed. Start baking immediately and don't stop until you've made enough cookies to appease the rest of your guys. Most of us would kill just to have one of them helping us out.
Connie
PS: Send me that Mr. Clean guy's number.