Saturday, July 09, 2005
mom's night out.
it's two in the morning.
my phone rings. it's my mother.
she flew in today to help me pack and to visit family. tonight she is suppost to be staying at her mothers'.
"daughter, what are you doing?"
um... it's two, take a guess. what are you doing?
"i'm at your aunt's house, will you bring us white castles?"
what?
"we need white castles. we have wine, but no little burgers."
zoom in on my look of suprise.
i look at my watch, i bang my head repeatedly on the wall.
fine. how many do you need?
"well, it's your aunt, uncle, and me. you think 20 will do it?"
dear god.
my mother is not a lush. she is a sweet woman with a good, if not sometimes lite, head on her shoulders. she just occasionally drops her better judgement for a more fun loving attitude.
i arrive at the house with three bags of drunk food.
they are sitting at the table giggling like teenagers after their first beer.
"what took you so long? we're hungry"
i live on the other side of town.
two huge, nearly empty, bottles of wine sit in front of them. one red, one white.
before i can even sit down, they pour me a glass.
heavy eyelids look out at me. slightly slurred speech speaks goofey sentence fragments.
they scarf the burgers.
they giggle at the dog as it trys to help them with their snack.
by the time i go to leave, it's 4 in the morning.
my mother attempts to convince me that she can drive.
she walks a wide swerving line while tapping her nose. giggling
she does a dance reminicent of something from Leaving Las Vegas down the same line.
she asks with a slur in her step if i would let her drive to my place.
i respond with a very firm "no"
"you can't tell me what to do, you are not my mother, i'm your mother"
she actually started that sentence with a serious tone, but ended with a fit of giggles.
i grounded her and sent her to her room.
oh, how the tables have turned. i remember like it was yesteday when she taught me the dangers of drinking and drunk driving. i remember when i was the irresponsible one.
i am my mother's keeper
my phone rings. it's my mother.
she flew in today to help me pack and to visit family. tonight she is suppost to be staying at her mothers'.
"daughter, what are you doing?"
um... it's two, take a guess. what are you doing?
"i'm at your aunt's house, will you bring us white castles?"
what?
"we need white castles. we have wine, but no little burgers."
zoom in on my look of suprise.
i look at my watch, i bang my head repeatedly on the wall.
fine. how many do you need?
"well, it's your aunt, uncle, and me. you think 20 will do it?"
dear god.
my mother is not a lush. she is a sweet woman with a good, if not sometimes lite, head on her shoulders. she just occasionally drops her better judgement for a more fun loving attitude.
i arrive at the house with three bags of drunk food.
they are sitting at the table giggling like teenagers after their first beer.
"what took you so long? we're hungry"
i live on the other side of town.
two huge, nearly empty, bottles of wine sit in front of them. one red, one white.
before i can even sit down, they pour me a glass.
heavy eyelids look out at me. slightly slurred speech speaks goofey sentence fragments.
they scarf the burgers.
they giggle at the dog as it trys to help them with their snack.
by the time i go to leave, it's 4 in the morning.
my mother attempts to convince me that she can drive.
she walks a wide swerving line while tapping her nose. giggling
she does a dance reminicent of something from Leaving Las Vegas down the same line.
she asks with a slur in her step if i would let her drive to my place.
i respond with a very firm "no"
"you can't tell me what to do, you are not my mother, i'm your mother"
she actually started that sentence with a serious tone, but ended with a fit of giggles.
i grounded her and sent her to her room.
oh, how the tables have turned. i remember like it was yesteday when she taught me the dangers of drinking and drunk driving. i remember when i was the irresponsible one.
i am my mother's keeper
posted by Jody @ 1:14 AM 
