So I called my mom. She is usually good for a post or two or three. But I think she had a few too many vodka tonics in her and the conversation was slurred and was mostly about her dogs and what she bought on her latest trip to Costco.
As she rambled on and on about Splenda, meatloaf and the Jack Russel's dingleberrys, I checked my email, cruised around Facebook and took pictures of my dogs sleeping on the bed. She figured out I wasn't really paying attention, so she started asking me questions.
Mom: "I have two bags of Splenda do you want one of them?"
Me: "Sure. I'll take one of them."
Mom: "I have a bunch of coupons you might want."
Me: "Like what"
Mom:” I have one for that 'Yours and Mine' stuff."
Mom: "You know, the stuff you use if you want to get intimate. You use it-"
Me: "STOP! Just stop talking. We are done. I am not talking to you about this. I am done. Good night Mom."
And I hung up. She had never given me "the talk" when I was younger. I certainly wasn't going to have it with her when I was 40 and married.