My Mother.

November 7, 2013

I don’t know about the rest of you but it’s my firm opinion that you should be able to park in an "expecting mother" parking space if you're waiting for your mom.

 

My mother is probably best described as a little woman who is filled with larger than life fire and personality. There doesn’t seem to be a place that we can go to where she isn’t engaging in conversations with the people at the register or cursing out a waitress despite our fear of food sabotage. It is to the best of my belief that someone has spit in our meal at least once or twice.

 

It is also to best of my belief that both my middle school and high school principal were partially relieved when they learned my little sister was the last of her children to attend their establishment.  My mother was famous for getting a crowd of parents worked up like a bunch of snapping geese. One minute she’d be waiting on someone to help her the next there would be a crowd of parents ready to storm the principal’s office with a list of demands. 

 

Some teachers cried, some workers in the office would blanch at the sight of her and most times she would over react while  I’d stand on the sidelines murmuring my apologies and praying she was running out of steam. The very same went for her family or friends. If you were nice to my mother she was a saint to your cause, but if you crossed her she’d make your life a living hell.  When it comes to fighting no one can hold a grudge like my mother can, in fact my mother has told me to forgive my enemies, but to always remember the ass-hole's name. I think it maybe safe to say she has 4 levels of anger in her: 1) annoyed  2) punchy  3) stabby  and  4) Christian Bale.

 

Needless to say my mother has taught me that there's no use worrying about things you can't control. And the good news is, that's pretty much everything. Trust me when you grow up with a woman like that you learn very quickly to do as your told and never be on her bad side. Something I have failed at many times. 

 

My mother has taught me many lessons like for example money cannot buy happiness, but it's more comfortable to cry in a Corvette than on a bicycle. Or the art of saying, "That's crazy" when you haven't been paying attention to what someone's saying.I don’t think my parents were able to record their wedding but part of me feels like my dad would have watched them with the same annoyance as a horror movie when you figure out who the psycho is before everyone else. My mother has also taught me that if you help someone when they're in trouble, chances are they will remember you when they're in trouble again.  

 

My mother can drive me crazy, she calls at all hours, she asks 50 questions, she says a lot of things I should never hear and does a lot of things I should probably never forgive her for either. But as a kid that’s what you do. You forgive your mom, you tolerate her crazy and then you write a lot of stories that feature crazy moms. Trust me, it’s very therapeutic. 

 

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