I was a really good mom. Great carpooler, all that. You’re not interviewing my kids, right? Who needs a dissent? But I started writing columns, all humor. Wrote a screenplay. Wrote a steamy novel basically to humiliate my kids. I was having some success, and in the middle of all this, my daughter became a teenager. All of a sudden she was taken by aliens — if you have kids, you know this happens. My parent-effectiveness training went right out the window. I had met with “Designing Women,” and they asked me to come out to L.A.