Returning from a weekend with my breast cancer grannies, i called Mom down in the Trailer Park.  The weekly call – a habit established almost 30 years ago when i left home.  We went through the usual laundry list of topics:

daisyfae:  How was your week?

Mom: Well, not much going on.  On Monday, I ate some leftovers from KFC.  DQ and BJ had ordered extra chicken livers… [litany of everything she’s eaten for the entire week follows]

daisyfae: Did you get the results back from the “sleep study” yet?

Mom:  They took me back for another sleep over Tuesday night, this time with that mask thing on me.  They say I slept for five hours.  I sure felt more rested.  DQ and BJ tell me that I was in a better mood on Wednesday, too…

And so on…  i ask after my siblings, have they called, what’s the latest and all that rot…  Eventually, she asked how the kids and i are doing.  She asked how work is going… if i’ve had any adventures.

Despite the fact that i’d just returned from a weekend at a lovely regional resort with my elder gal-pals, i just didn’t feel right telling her about it. 

Yes.  You got it folks.  i felt as though i’d been cheating on my mother with two other women.

That, my friends, is supremely fucked up, isn’t it?  Turns out, my weekend excursion was – wait for it – a guilt trip.