Am I a slacker Mom?

That's a question I ask myself everyday. Or, at least Gmail asks me everyday. That is, when it's not offering to tell me shocking secrets coffee companies don't want me to know.

Personally, I can think of a couple of biological objections to this hypothesis, but I'm not a search engine that employs half the desi engineer population and is worth billions of dollars, so what do I know?

Is slacker moms an equal opportunity sub-culture, do you think? Can you tell a Slacker Mom by the way she never makes fun of Britney Spears and is always anxious to know more about making "organic, nutritious meals usually involving the four food groups" for her little brat, right until she remembers that she's left him in the car with the windows rolled up? Are there I Am A Slacker Mom T-shirts for sale, and if you wear one, do you get a lot of plastic surgeons soliciting you for business?

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Meanwhile, in yet another example of life imitating the movies, Yahoo! has this story about a village in Peru that's been struck by a mysterious illness after a meteorite crashed in the neighborhood. The villagers have apparently been suffering from headaches and nausea. I wonder if it's an alien life form taking over their bodies, contact with the Sperm of Satan (which the meteorite will doubtless turn out to be) or the shock of realizing that their lives consist of being extras in a John Carpenter film?