I was reading a story in the newspaper about an (in)convenience store in Iowa that sold a winning Powerball ticket. What caught my eye while reading the story was the name of the store: Kum and Go, obviously named by someone with a weird sense of humor. Call me quirky, but I am not buying ANY food from a store that has the word "kum" in it's name, especially when it's spelled that way. "Come" and Go, I'll think about. Kum and Go? No friggin' way.
What's more fun than a box of rabid monkeys? A barrel of teething babies? A tank of pissed off sharks?
Spending time with Mom, of course!
No, wait. On second thought, I'll risk the sharks.
Learn only one thing from me, WW, and that is THIS MOTHER/DAUGHTER THING NEVER GETS ANY EASIER.
I figured that out when I saw a 70 something woman stand up on a talk show bawling about how her mother and father never loved her.
Mom is FOREVER trying to trip me up about my work schedule.
The woman needs to get a part time job with the FBI to hone those interrogation skills.
She'll call me out of the blue and say something like, "Are you off Friday?"
Regardless of my schedule, I immediately know the answer is "no".
Anytime I hear that magic question,
I know saying "yes" will either result in me doing some kind of dumb shit grunt work
for her or going to church for some 'special' Mass. Neither is appealing.
And the scary, funny thing is that somewhere in Picksburgh, Female Offpsring is writing the same thing about me...
Last night Female Offspring #6 asked me what I was going to put in the new cupboard from
my uncle. I said, "Well, it's a china cupboard, so I guess I'll have to put my good dishes and glasses in it."
When I came home from work, she said, "Look, Mom! I put the good dishes in the cupboard for you."
Sho 'nuff. It was full of Cool Whip bowls and Ronald McDonald glasses.
Male Offspring #1 told me that he signed me up for a creative writing class since I was so interested in taking classes this past summer.
He said, "I even signed you up for a therapeutic drum circle and pottery class."
I said, "Therapeutic drum cir--wait a minute. Who's sponsoring these classes?"
He said, "The Mental Illness Awareness Institute."