Sunday, August 24, 2008

Another Conversation With My Mom.

I sent my mom a copy of this picture.
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She called me as soon as she read the email and told me she loved it.

She said, "How nice it is to have such a clever husband that can do such clever things. Are you going to send it to Barack Obama?"

I told her I thought he was a little busy right now to appreciate Mr. Misha's photoshop skills. She then told me she was going to show it to my Uncle John. I groaned and said "Why?" I really didn't want a late night phone call from my redneck uncle giving me shit about my politics.

She said, "Don't worry. He's all Democrat now. He said the other day that he was making more money and having more fun when the President was getting blowjobs in the oval office. Now that there is some retard from Texas in there shooting his mouth off and blowing countries up, his business has not been as good."

I laughed and replied, "Yeah, blow jobs aren't usually lethal, are they?"

My mom replied, "Nope. Good thing, since people are just going around sucking dicks like they are just shaking hands nowadays."

"Really?" I replied. I wondered what kind of crowd my mom was hanging out with these days. "So does Miss Manners have a book out on proper blow job etiquette now?"

"Well, I don't know if there is a book. But I know that people are doing it all the time now."

I started to tease her a bit and said, "So in China or Japan, instead of bowing to each other, do you think they are blowing each other?"

"I don't know about over there, but here...well, they say that here everyone is blowing everybody."

"Mom, that must be what Paul is doing wrong in his job interviews. He should be putting penises in his mouth instead of shaking hands. I'll tell him you said he should be blowing perspective employers."

"Michele! I did not say that. That is not for boys. Boys don't give blow jobs, girls do."

"What about Aunt Jon and Uncle Tom?"

"That's different."

"I am going to tell Paul you want him to give blow jobs."

"Don't you dare."

"I am. I am going to tell him right now."

"Michele Marie! Do not tell your husband we were talking about oral sex."

"Mom, I am gonna tell him and then I am going to write about it. Everyone will know that you were talking about blow jobs."

"Well, just make it clear that I only TALK about them."

Friday, August 22, 2008

Mother Daughter Profanity.

Thursday my mom came up to visit me. She helped me with some straightening up so when the girl comes to clean my house, she can actually clean. I kept reminding her that she did not need to give the house "The German Scrub-down", merely help me get stuff out of the way for the cleaning lady. She wouldn't listen. This is the conversation we had in my kitchen:

Me: Old woman, if you don't stop sweeping the floor I am going to kick your ass.

Her: Oh yeah? You with your gimpy neck and arm? How are you going to kick my ass?

Me: You are old, you have a pain in your ass from your sciatica, only one eye, a torn rotator cuff and two swollen feet. I have still have one good arm, two eyes and two good feet. It won't be a fair fight and I'll kick your ass. So quit sweeping the fucking floor!

Her: Shut the fuck up you ungrateful child!

Me: Now Joan, be nice to me. I am the only child. Not only will I pick the nursing home you'll get put into, I will also be writing your obituary. You've seen what can happen with that!

Then we both starting laughing so hard, I started to cry and she peed her pants. In my kitchen. We had to mop the floor anyway.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Lessons Learned From An Obit.

My mom, like many seniors, reads the obituaries in her local paper each morning while sipping her cup of coffee. She often calls me and reads them to me on the phone. I normally tune her out and play on the computer while she reads them. This latest one was different. Here is how our conversation went:

Me (hearing my mom read yet another obit to me): "blah, blah, blah, yadda yadda, Dolores...never had a kind word or deed..."

Me: "Mom, shut the fuck up! What was that?"

She read it again.

Me: "No way. This is a joke. Give me that chick's name and I will google it while you read the rest to me!"

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The lessons I have gleaned from this:

1.) Be careful how you treat people, one of them might be writing your obituary.


2.) The death of someone hurtful doesn't erase the hurt.


3.) Therapy and forgiveness are good things.
Things my mom and I discussed about this obituary:

1.) It is one sided. A cheap shot towards someone who cannot defend herself.

2.) Her family needs therapy or something to get over these feelings of anger and hurt.

3.) We would never air our family's dirty laundry in the newspaper.
For more info on how this got into the paper, click here.