– Mom eats. A lot. Constantly. Before going to get her, i made a basic grocery run for healthy breakfast food. Before we left her house, she bagged up an assortment of non-healthy snacks to make sure she’d have a little something to “take with her medicine”. A bag of Doritos, box of snack crackers, pita bread and hummus, cookies, spreadable cheese… and two small orphaned bags of Cheetos.
– Celebrating my daughter’s university graduation, we had home made pizza, cake and ice cream for dinner Friday night. Followed by the traditional “Granny kicks our asses and wins the kids tuition money” poker game. This year? The Girl won. We bagged it, and watched “Slumdog Millionaire” – which required running commentary by me to explain what was going on throughout most of the movie. But she enjoyed it…
Read 'em and weep. Bitches...
– Mom can’t read because of her failing eyesight. But somehow managed the subtitles in the movie just fine, and was reading items from the New York Times to me this morning over breakfast. i’m confused…
– Took Momma to a “drag race” Saturday afternoon. That’d be a “Walk A Mile In Her Shoes” fundraiser… Over 100 men. Racing around a quarter mile track, in heels. Holy crap, it was funny… To hear the little dears whining about the discomfort, blisters, twisted ankles? Precious. Seeing the contestants ‘high fiving’ Mom in her wheel chair as the “Pump Parade” passed? Delicious. We cheered the fastest ones, and encouraged the slow ones, telling them they still looked fetching in their peep-toe pumps…
Stiletto Boyz in da Hood
– Took both Momma and my children out for a very nice meal Saturday to celebrate Mother’s Day. The Boy was hoping it was one of those ‘challenge’ restaurants, where you can order a 72 ounce steak, and get it for free if you can eat the whole thing. Um… no… Baby’s first Filet Mignon. i think i’ve won him over on this one… Perhaps he gained an understanding the concept of “quality” over “quantity” when it comes to cow parts.
– Not sure how it happened, but during the course of our dinner, we managed to cover a ridiculous number of horrible conversation topics. Including, but not limited to: “Prom Night Dumpster Babies“, incest, genocide, Stalin, photographing excrement and farting on toddlers.
– Mr. Pickles is channeling Lassie. Since Mom arrived, he has attached himself to her. Sleeping by her bedside – almost in perfect position to trip her should she get up in the middle of the night. We decided he’s waiting for her to fall down a well, so he can sound an alarm and get some good doggie treats…
Hey... Her pajamas are full of cake crumbs. I'm not going anywhere...
– As the bill for dinner arrived, i was surprised when The Boy reached for it. He picked it up, and i looked over, somewhat confused… as he handed it across the table to me, he and The Girl both busted out laughing. “Awww…. She looked hopeful! Did you see that? Wasn’t that cute?”. Bastards. Complete bastards…
– Last year, my children did a lovely job of tormenting surprising me on Mother’s Day. With a bit less fuss, this year, they were rewarded with a full five minutes of me laughing my ass off at their gorgeous card (created by one of The Girl’s friends). Inside? The handwritten sentiment:
Happy Mother’s Day!
Hey, you tried.
Trailer Park Refugee 