By Ann McGough

A recent Budweiser commercial shows one guy dancing the night away with a beautiful, leggy, seductive-looking woman, while his friend talks to, or rather listens to, the woman's friend talk about herself. The guy's friend, was the "wingman." He was a supporting actor in his friend's quest for love. He took one for the team, if you will.

We all need in a wingman, someone who has our back, and helps us to do what we need to get done. Mothers of young children, especially need a good wingman. No, we don't need a wingman so we can run into Lucky's Bar and dance with eligible men (although if you do, best of luck!)) We do, however, need a wingman, to help us run errands.

Sometimes the wingman knows exactly what she's getting herself into. She (most of my wingmen are shes) may get a call on a Saturday morning, "Hey we need to run to Target, do you want to come?" The recipient of this call knows that she will not simply be running into Target. She will be helping me corral my children through Target so that I can stock up on diapers, toilet paper, and paper towels without having to spend a small fortune on bribes. "Please stay with Mama while I look at two more things, then I will buy you some playdough!"

In the event that there is an escape attempt, e.g. someone darts off to try on Halloween costumes while I am trying to decide between Clorox or Lysol disinfectant wipes, the Wingman can either run after the perp, or stand near the stationary children, while I hoof it over to aisle 11B.

There is also the "unassuming" Wingman. When you call this person to ask them if they would like to join you and the kids for lunch, they think the day will entail only a trip to Sullivan's. They don't realize that the full hour following the consumption of burgers and fries will be spent in the car with the kids while make Mom several "two minute" stops at a variety of locales between the dry cleaners, the pharmacy, and the supermarket. I am a firm believer that you can do anything with your kids, but some things entail a lot less time and aggravation if you are by yourself.

While our husbands watched the 100-year rivalry between the Boston Red Sox and the New York Yankees this Columbus Day Weekend, a friend and I took our six children, five and under, to Storyland (Where Fantasy Lives!) in Glen, New Hampshire. For this excursion, we went with the "Hired Wingman." This junior high student, a cousin of my friends, was told exactly how she would spend 30 hours with six kids and two mothers. She was paid a fee and everyone was happy.

Her list of duties went something like this, "Sit with the baby while we take the kids on the Polar Coaster." "So and so just took off, please go get her." "Keep all of the kids at this table while we go get the lunch."

There was no really heavy lifting involved, but having the back-up made everyone's time at Storyland (Where Fantasy Lives!) all the more enjoyable.

So, the next time you are out and about on a Saturday, survey the people you see sitting in the passenger seats of all of those minivans. Are they smiling and singing, or do they look confused as they keep staring down at their watches, wondering where their afternoon has gone?

Whatever the case, hail to the Wingman!