Since it might snow tonight, everyone is in a dither - the schools closed or out early, people lining up their personal days for the possibility of icy roads tomorrow, rushing to the store, checking the Weather Channel app on their iPhone, or NOAA every fifteen minutes, or visiting their mom.
I myself am guilty of sending several text messages, some including the word snow, to Pam because we're meeting at Southpoint this evening. I know! I got sucked into the panic vortex. She asked me to pick up some cocoa crack popcorn at Whole Foods. After that I had some time to kill, so I went over to Mom's.
On the way I saw this sticker and it made me laugh out loud. People are funny.
|I'm A Freak - Touch Me|
Mom came toddling over to the door holding her arms out. When I came in, she said "Mommy!" and hugged me.
We decided to hang out in her room. She was wearing some lime green striped sockies with her outfit - they just didn't go. As we looked for a different pair of socks to wear, I took the opportunity to organize her underwear drawer.
Mom informed me she was going to "make me a woman" and then said I was lovely. We organized that drawer and the pajama drawer and sorted out some other clothing items.
This baby doll has been hanging around for awhile, I asked Mom what the baby's name was. She didn't know.
Let's name the baby.
I hold the baby in front of my face - name me name me.
She is the best audience ever and thinks that it is damn funny.
Mookie? Mary Jane? Melinda?
She says yes to all of them.
"I don't want to name the baby. I don't like the baby."
You don't?! It's been hanging around for awhile. Look at its toes, they look like a chimp's. We could call it chimp baby.
She laughs and laughs. Picks up her hand mirror from CP and starts tapping the baby, "Bing!" (maybe that's its name!)
Then decides she needs to use the restroom. A ten minute event. Including figuring out the difference between up and down and the task of hand washing.
She sits on her bed (not the stool absconded from the activity room).
"I only had one every time. The baby looks just like you. I have to get sixteen thousand more."
Suddenly the mirror, which is laying on the bed, starts cracking - neither of us are touching it. What's the bad luck rule on that?! (no escaping the Irish superstition gene, especially if one's grandfather was known for it) If it breaks itself, is the bad luck null and void?
I throw the mirror away (hope she doesn't drag it out) and get her to sit in her chair, where she proclaims hers are different.
We're still on the baby topic (I think):
"I didn't know they'd come out different and poof! He's cute except he ain't purty. Most of 'em do of 'em. Wheee! I guess we better keep him with us and then we can be tender. He's weary. I know, but I wasn't the only one."
(thanks Memo [tool on my phone]. That was an exact quote.)
You're funny, I tell Mom.
"I've always been funny. You just found that out?"
I ask if she wants to watch TV. She walks over and picks up the phone.
"No. I was just checking."
We alternate first between the local news (Snow! OMG! Ice! OMG! School closings! OMG! Snow! OMG!) and the Wake County Animal Shelter cable access show. They were demonstrating how they assess the temperament of the dogs before adoption. Mom enjoyed that. Then between "Everyone Hates Chris" and the weather. (Because OMG! snow)
"You better keep your next son. Whee. Whoo."
The episode of "Everyone Hates Chris"was about Chris "adjusting" a less than stellar grade he'd received in math. Mom said [basically] she'd never done that and asked if I had.
Oh yeah. I did.
What better time to confess?