The Slightly Evil Reporter

...And so a reporter from a speck of a newspaper calls to ask me some questions about Going Home to a Landscape. I very politely tell her that I would love to answer her questions, but is there any way we can do the interview via e-mail because I have three small children at home, and it's difficult to get a quiet block of time for a decent telephone call. "Um, no," says The Slightly Evil Reporter. "I try to avoid that if at all possible."

Oooookay. I could understand if she were asking me questions about my involvement as a bridesmaiden in the recent Britney Spears wedding debacle and needed to 1) gauge my sincerity by listening to my voice and 2) make sure I tweren't (is that a word? if not, it should be) weaving an elaborate Web of Deceit in my effort to milk my position for, let's say, $25,000. But she wasn't.

She just asked me ten questions along the lines of, "Is there anything about the stories and poems in the books that ties them all together?" Questions, I might add, which would have been simple to answer if one of my twins hadn't been yelling, "Mom! I'm in the bathroom! I pooped! Can you come here? Can you come here!" while the other one tugged on my jeans and repeated—you know, in case I couldn't hear the one screaming from down the hall—"Mom! Vida's in the bathroom! She pooped! Can you go in there? Can you go in there?" and the third one, the smallest, applied a vast amount of Hello Kitty sparkling lip gloss in the vicinity of her mouth.

I don't remember any of the answers I gave to The Slightly Evil Reporter. Would you?