Tag Archives: mom

58 and still giggles like a school girl

My mother is 58 years old.  She’s always been fun.  In fact, I can’t remember a time when I hated (in the teenage angst, no-on-will-ever-GET-me-my-life-is-so-hard-WAH kind of way) (although I’m sure she could come up with some instances).  I remember being on the bus during a band trip when someone ran on an announced, “Cori, your mom just started a water gun fight.”  The same trip, she somehow convinced most of the chaperons and all of the band directors to jump in the pool, fully clothed.  She claims that she didn’t convince anyone of anything, but she WAS the first one in the pool.

So it really should come as no surprise that the older she gets, the more she turns into a prepubescent boy.  Every time I talk to her we end up talking about poop and/or farting.  And every time we talk about it, she laughs so hard she nearly pees (or actually DOES pee, but that’s another story for another time).

To wit: the other night we were talking on the phone about the new book she was reading, Rage.  She was reading a passage where Danny Evans was telling a coworker that he “cropdusted a 3 year old.”  To anyone who’s worked in the food service industry, this is not a new phrase.  It’s funny, sure, but we’ve all heard it before.  But to my 58 year-old mother, this phrase was new and, apparently, HILARIOUS.  She couldn’t get through three or four sentences without stopping to laugh.  I listened patiently, because I’m a good daughter, and when she was done I chuckled a bit and said, “Yeah, that’s good.”

“Don’t you think that’s funny?!” She asked, surpised that I wasn’t rolling on the floor laughing like she was.

“I mean, yeah.  It’s funny.  Cropdusting a three year old is funny, and telling your Mormon coworker about it is even funnier.”

“Cropdusting!!!  HAHAHAHAHA!!!  I had never heard of that.”

And it’s not just cropdusting.  She thinks it’s ridiculous that JR likes to *ahem* take his time in the bathroom.  She prides herself on getting in and out quickly.  In fact, just this weekend when she was visiting, she came out of the bathroom and announced that it takes her less than a minute to pee (yes, she timed herself).

“I always put it off because I think it takes too long.”  She said.

The first thing she does when she gets to our house is poop.  She stops at the same place every time she drives to Houston to “get a cup of coffee and poop.”  We’ll be engaged in a lovely conversation, or in the middle of something and suddenly she’ll jump up, yell “It’s crowning” and run to the bathroom.  She’ll come out less than a minute later and resume whatever it was that she was doing.

Is this what happens when you “grow up?”  Because it looks to me like she’s regressing!

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

How I spent my weekend

My mom has always been very emotional.  We always make fun of her because she cries at Hallmark commercials (OMG, I bet she’s a mess with these Visa commercials).  One of my favorite stories of her crying in public is right before my little brother went to college.  She went to the grocery store and was standing in the shampoo aisle when, as she puts it, it hit her.  She just started bawling.  She says she stood really close to the shelves to minimize the amount of people that saw her.

She doesn’t just cry.  She laughs a lot.  JR cracks her up.  In fact, one of the first times they met was at her friend’s Christmas party.  There was a band playing and JR asked her to dance.  They started two stepping in the kitchen, her laughing the whole time, and all of the sudden she ran out of the room.  We didn’t see her for about 30 minutes after that.

I love the fact that she can laugh so easily.  I love making her laugh.  It’s easy, sure, but hearing her laugh as hard as she does really makes my day.  

We went to a bar Saturday night for her birthday.  It’s a piano bar in San Marcos where I went to college and where my little brother is going now.  It’s her favorite place in the world, I think.  Because it was her birthday, she had quite a few drinks.  6 rum-and-cokes and a shot, to be exact.  In 4 hours.  I don’t think I need to say that she was pretty drunk when we left at one.  

JR took my mom and her friend back to my dad’s house (Oh, I didn’t mention that we were staying at my dad’s -her exhusband’s- house?  He was out of town, but you know.  Weird.) and I took my little brother back to his apartment.  I pull into my dad’s driveway and JR immediatly comes to the car.

“You need to come to the deck right now.  You won’t believe what your mom did.”

At this point, nothing would surprise me.  She had already been on stage, with “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling” playing in the background, and two 30 something men grinding on her.  One of them even opened his shirt and licked her foot.  I had seen her take a jello shot (and then another, and another), heard someone tell her to “take off your shirt and take this shot,” offered pot.  Surely she wouldn’t surprise me.

I was wrong.  I walked around to the back deck and noticed a puddle on the ground.  I didn’t think too much of it; I thought someone had spilled a beer.  I made a mental note to wash it off in the morning.  Then I noticed that my mom wasn’t outside.  And that her friend and my friend (who was there to watch Claire) were laughing so hard that I was sure one of them would fall out of their chair.

My mother walked back out to the deck and explained, between bouts of drunken laughter, what happened.  

She peed on the deck.

I’ll wait a second for that to absorb.  

She peed on the deck.  

My father’s deck.  Her EXHUSBAND’s deck.  

I’m not even 100% sure how it happened.  Drunky McDrinks-a-lot made it seem like Rachael (her friend) walked in the house and saw JR talking to my friend.  She asked my mom, who was standing out on the deck, “who that girl was.”  

And my mom laughed so hard that she peed.  Apparently she said, “Oh!  I’m peeing!  It’s running down my leg!  I’m peeing!”

By the way, the reason she left the Christmas party after dancing with JR in the kitchen?  She peed her pants.  She ran into the bathroom, and when she couldn’t dry them off with the hairdryer, went home to change.

This is my life.

2 Comments

Filed under Random thoughts