Last week you might recall that I offered some predictions for my mother’s visit. As I know that everyone has waited with baited breath to see how correct I was, here are the results:
1. She will hint at least twice that she wants to move in here. I nailed that one easily. There were TONS of said hints.
2. She will have some issue with the fact that there is a picture of my late sister in a collage frame that also has a photo of my stepmother in it. She didn’t seem to notice that one…very surprised.
3. She will further recognize that there aren’t enough pictures of HER around. Not only did she notice, but she vowed to have a new set of Glamour Shots done post haste so that I would have appropriate photos of her around.
4. She will complain that the house is too cold at night. No, it was too hot. But how was I to know that her doctor’s had changed her hormone prescription?
5. She will recognize that the house is clean and proclaim that housekeeping is a trait I inherited from her (despite the fact that you literally can not walk through her house) Partially right on this one. She recognized my house was clean and tried to sucker me into coming up to her house for a weekend to help her “get it in order”
6. When we go shopping for the new sheets I promised her for mother’s day–she will hint heavily about at least four other things that she “needs”. I was right on the money with this one.
7. She will complain about the driving of whoever is behind the wheel. Surprisingly, I missed this one.
8. She will engage a complete stranger in a conversation about any or all of the following: A. whatever illness she is suffering from this week, B. my sister’s death, C. the rising price of various commodities. Oh, I was quite right on this one.
9. She will provide amusement and embarassment with her complete lack of political correctness. Did she ever! More detail later…
10. She will attempt to do the laundry. No, but only because I made sure there was none before she arrived. She did say she wanted to “Try out” my front loading washer.
11. She will inform me that I don’t use the right body soap, the right laundry soap, or the right cleaning products, and suggest the nearest dollar store where the correct items can be purchased. I nailed this one too!
12. She will, on no less than three occasions, suggest the she be allowed to smoke in A. my car, B. my garage, or C. in my house if she “cracks the window”. Having been told no to all of these, any trip of more than 20 minutes will have to include a stop in a parking lot so she can light up. Surprisingly, she only mentioned smoking in the garage.
All in all, it was a nice weekend. I’m sure it was good for Mom to get away for a few days, and overall, I enjoyed myself. But my psychic abilities fell short in being able to predict the following gems from the visit:
On Friday night, she regaled us with tales of her glow in the dark dildo. Apparently, that makes the multi-speed model easier to find at night. She went on to tell us how one of her former gentleman friends wanted to tie her up and “then run to Kroger’s for Pepsi!” Then she started in on her list of things she should be entitled to–which includes anything of value that my Grandmother might leave when she passes away. (“I should get that sewing machine because I hid under it when I was little! I should get that ring because I went to the library and the internet says tradition dictates that the first born daughter gets it!)…anything that ever belonged to or had anything to do with my sister…(They should give me the funeral guest book because I had her! I’d like to know what happened to her diamond earrings..those should go to me! I should get to pick out her headstone <even though she isnt contributing a red cent to it> because I’m the one who carried her for nine months!) When mom saw the 30th birthday collage my dad put together for me, she was aghast that it didn’t include any photos of her. (Why, exactly, should it? “Well I carried you!” As if someone who divorced you 26 years ago still has photos lying around?)
Then it was time for conspiracy theories. “I know your sister’s fiance paid someone to cut those brake lines.” Yeah, because a cut brake line allows a car to operate normally for hundreds of miles only to fail on black ice in a ninety degree turn down a mountain? I’m no mechanic but I just don’t think it works like that.
On Saturday night, I hosted a cook out with about ten or twelve friends in attendance. One friend is pregnant, and another couple there just had their first baby a month ago. When the conversation turned to breast feeding, mom offered that neither of her children were “tittie babies” but one of her ex husbands “sure loved breast milk“. She then suggested that any obstetrician would do what hers had done–“put a few extra stitches in there and you’ll be like a virgin again. That and some Kegal excersises–you’ll be 16 all over!”
Then there were the random comments about being a “Jew” when it came time to buy a new car…how she would make an excellent surrogate mother…and how her hormone shots had given her “these big titties.”
And of course there was our ongoing discussion about how a woman of a certain age should dress. “Are these ok to wear?” she asked, producing a pair of micro-jean shorts. “No!” I said. “Why not?”
“Well, I don’t think they’re appropriate for somone your age.” She left it alone, but then throughout the day pointed out everyone she saw with something similar on. “She’s about my size, and her shorts are just as short!” Well, yeah, she’s also 16 and firm. “She can’t be much younger than me, and look at her shorts!” Fair enough, but she also just walked out of a gym, she isn’t wearing that to dinner.
These minor annoyances aside, it was a fairly fun weekend, but one that nonetheless left me exhausted. I was in bed by 9:30 last night and would have slept til noon today if the clock hadn’t gone off.
She promises another visit soon….stay tuned!