I feel quite safe writing this because she is currently on vacation with several of her friends so she can’t hurt me. By the time she gets back she will have forgotten about it.
I haven’t lived with my mom in over twenty years. To say the last few weeks have been interesting would be an understatement. I don’t know if I have forgotten what she was like, or if she’s simply changed a lot in the ensuing years. She’s a feisty little thing. It’s an interesting juxtaposition. She could easily pass for 50 but she has the mouth and attitude of an 85 year old. It seems to me that the older you get the more you just let whatever you’re thinking fly out of your mouth. So yeah, 85 sounds about right. Life is never dull, I’ll give her that. And yes, this is a blatant rip-off of Shit My Dad Says.
Cocksuckers. This is a favorite word of hers. I don’t even remember who the cocksucker was at this point. I have to say I’m really beginning to like the word. It’s very multipurpose. Someone cuts you off in traffic? Cocksucker! Someone writes something stupid on Facebook? Cocksucker! Someone drinks the last of the iced tea or doesn’t put their dishes in the dishwasher? Cocksucker! My sweet little 70 year old mother calls everyone a cocksucker.
Don’t even get her started on weddings. We were watching Four Weddings (taking a break from murder and mayhem) and one of the brides had her dog dressed up in a little tutu as part of the bridal party. My mother said, and I quote, “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen. I hope that dog shits down the aisle!” I’m pretty sure that has been my favorite Mom quote so far. Or it could be a tie with, “I’ve got a gun. I’m old and I’m not afraid of prison.” That one was pretty good, too.
Apparently she has very strong feelings about animals as members of the bridal party. She’s also not a fan of strapless wedding gowns (It’s a church, not a strip club!) or brides who change dresses at the reception (That’s just ridiculous; you spend all that money on a dress and then you go and change into something different!). Cash bar at a wedding? OMG! Tacky, tacky, tacky. Mon Dieu, it just isn’t done! You don’t invite people to a wedding and then ask them to pay for their own booze. I teased her and asked if she would prefer if we just went back to cake and punch; she is not opposed to that. She is also having a hard time grasping this concept of the cocktail hour, especially when, as she puts it, “Their cocktail hour is like another goddamn dinner! How can they eat another meal right after that?” When I told her I had seen an episode where they ended up not having dinner until 11 at night you should have seen her head spin. “That is just ridiculous!” Well, they had a pretty heavy cocktail hour, Mom. We are both on board with the idea that if you are going to spend a ton of money on your wedding then by all means make it look like you’ve spent a ton of money.
If you’re spending $100,000+ on your big day I’m expecting to see fire breathers and dancers and fireworks. I’m expecting an amazing venue with jaw dropping decorations. I want to see a cocktail hour that includes signature cocktails and tons of food. I want lobster and caviar and champagne fountains. Ice sculptures with alcohol shooting out of them! I want a big cake that tastes delicious and maybe a dessert bar with a chocolate fountain. Plus, anytime you put food in a cute container that’s always a win for me. Tiny grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup in shooters? Awesome! A mashed potato bar with the potatoes served in a martini glass? Yes! I want to see expensive bottles of wine or champagne, or silver plated picture frames or hundred dollar bills as wedding favors. Maybe a horse drawn carriage or the pastor dropped in by parachute with the groom arriving by elephant. You can top it off with late night snacks, like mini cheeseburgers and tiny shakes, or a waffle bar! Don’t tell me you’ve spent $50,000 having roses flown in from Argentina! Who cares? Unless your guests are all horticulturists no one gives a shit where you got the roses from. Are they alive? Awesome! I also don’t want to hear that your huge budget went to pay for your $20,000 wedding dress that you wore for an hour and then you spent another $10,000 on the reception dress, or that you paid $5000 for your engraved wedding invitations. I want to see the bling, baby! Impress me with your awesome reception opulence! Oops, sorry! That was my own little mini rant. Back to my mom…
I saw a commercial for TLC’s Love At First Kiss and I was asking her about it.
Me: So I don’t understand the concept. Is it that they kiss at first sight and hope they fall in love and that’s the end of it, or is there some debate about whether or not to kiss each other?
Her: I don’t know. I don’t watch that bullshit!
We have a cousin who just had a baby with his fiancee. Cutest baby in the world. Absolutely adorable. However, he is rarely photographed with any actual clothes. I mean, I know it’s summer but come on! My mother was looking at a recent picture and asks, “Do they ever put clothes on that baby? I swear, all I ever see him in is a diaper and maybe a blanket!” It’s outrageous, I tell you!
She told me she was reading Chump Lady the other day and read about a woman who had moved to be closer to her husband’s family. She had to commute two hours to work each day and she was the main breadwinner. My mom says to me, “I was thinking, ‘Wow, lady, you’re even crazier than my daughter.’” Thanks, Mom!
Then we have all of her words of wisdom. Things like: You can’t beat that with a stick. It’s six of one and half dozen of another. My favorite, I think, is: Everything after that is gravy. As in, “Well, I want to get at least $100 for that item. Anything over that is just gravy.” Or, “All you need is a roof over your head and food in your belly. Anything beyond that is just gravy.” Then there is: She’s as worthless as tits on a boar hog. That could be used for either sex in case you were wondering; it’s not gender specific. I think we’ve all heard, “You can’t have your cake and eat it, too,” and “Don’t bite off your nose to spite your face.” That one threw my niece; she had never heard that phrase. She also likes to get “fluffed and puffed”. No, that’s not a sex term. It’s her way of saying she’s getting ready. “Well Sam, I’m going to go get fluffed and puffed and then we can head on out to Kohl’s.” I think it involves taking a shower but I’m not sure if that’s always a requirement. I know it involves doing your hair and putting on makeup.
My mom is trying to sell some items that belonged to my stepdad and she has listed some of them online. As I mentioned above my mom is on vacation with her friends this week. Someone contacted her and they were very interested in this item. She calls and leaves me a message, which I admit, I didn’t listen to right away. She texts me and tells me someone wants to buy the item and that he works here in town so please contact him. Okay. I get another call around 11.
“I know you haven’t contacted the guy yet because he just contacted me to say he hadn’t heard from you.”
“I don’t even know this guy and he’s already irritating me!”
I told her she had said he wanted to meet after work so I figured I had a little bit of time before I needed to make arrangements but nonetheless I copy down his number and text him. We make arrangements for the meet up. Not at our house, mind you.
I get another text from her.
Mom: Did you contact that guy?
Me: Yes. I’m giving him the stuff and then we’re going out for drinks. If that goes well we’ll make plans for dinner. Thanks for sending him my way!
Immediately after that:
Me: What do you think I should wear?
Mom: Saran wrap.
Me: For a first date? Maybe afterwards…
Saran wrap, folks! That’s what my mother advises me to wear on a date! I told you she was feisty. She also told me I was a smart ass, which I did cop to.
Finally, I get this:
Don’t forget to take out the trash and recycle tonight. Let me know when you get this message.
Shhh! Don’t tell anyone, my faithful readers, but while she’s gone I’m throwing a big party and my friends and I are going to get into her alcohol! I might even have my fictitious boyfriend come over and spend the night!
Then we having the driving. I have long called my mother Mario Andretti. She has got quite the lead foot. My niece and daughter often talk about her penchant for braking hard all the time and my brother says, “Mom is either stepping on the gas pedal or the brake. There is no coasting in her vocabulary. Why slow down gradually when you can just slam on the brakes?” The sad part is I’ve been driving with her quite a bit and it’s true. I never noticed it until recently but she really doesn’t coast. She will be pushing down hard on that gas pedal until she gets up on the bumper of the car in front of her, and then BAM- she punches down hard on the brake. Stop. Go. Gas. Brake. There is no coast. She told me she doesn’t believe in it; she’s got a perfectly good working brake pedal.
We practically played Bumper Cars at the bank the other day. She was going for the ATM and I swear we hit the curb twice in the short distance. Those concrete poles were right up in my face. Tire hits once. Car bounces off the curb and looks like it’s ready to collide with the concrete poles and bounce off. Just like bumper cars at the amusement park. Oops. Not done! Tire hits twice. Car bounces off the curb again. Again, looks like it’s going to use the concrete poles as extra padding and just bounce off of them into the ATM.
“Mom, this isn’t bumper cars.”
“Today it is.”
A day later she’s making a right hand turn on red while traffic from the opposite direction is turning left on a green arrow. I’m closing my eyes because while it’s perfectly legal sometimes people don’t stay in their own lane.
“What? He has his own lane! It’s turn into your lane from your lane. Where did he take Driver’s Ed?”
Strangely enough years ago some guy yelled that same thing to my mom at a McDonald’s drive-thru. I won’t tell the rest of this story so that my mother may maintain her dignity but suffice to say the one time she had a ready comeback she forgot the window wasn’t down.
The day before she flat out refused to let another car into her lane. We were at a stoplight where they were working on one side of the road so that side, obviously, was closed and everyone needed to merge left. I’m sure you’re probably familiar with the people who get in the soon to be closed lane and try to sneak on in. This truck was determined he was coming on over, trying to slide into my mom’s lane smooth as silk. Nothing to see here, ladies; just making my way into your lane. Oh no! She was not having it. She refused to slow down and make room for him and honked her horn when he tried to edge in.
“Mom! I can’t believe you didn’t let him in!”
“Hell no I’m not letting him in! He is not getting over into my lane! He should have known better! That lane was closed and he didn’t get over. He thinks he’s too good to wait in line like the rest of us.”