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the zen of mom
Jun. 15th, 2004 08:50 pmRandom thought: no-sew fabric projects are to sewing what no-bake cheescake boxed mix is to baking. Grok?
Anyway, this post is to be all about my mother and her cuteness.
Tonite we got pizza from Papa John's. We drove there and I sat in the car, in the backseat reading while my mom went in and ordered and my brother walked around dropping off filled-out applications to burger joints around there. My mom got back in the car and I continued to read while we waited for my brother to return to the car.
Mom: Jackie, can I ask you a question?
Me: Of course! ::closing my book::
Mom: Would it be an insult for me to say to you that someone is kind of ... well, butch?
Me: ::laughs:: No, not really.
Mom: Okay. ... Well, the girl who took my order just now, she's rather... butch. Butch and kind of surly... no, just sullen.
Me: ::giggle:: Oh yeah? ::trying to peek into Papa John's:: Who knows, maybe I know her.
Mom: Well, you can go in and pick up the pizza when it's ready, then.
...time elapses... I go in and get the pizza. The girl behind the counter is a superfuckinghott dyke who looks like a juvenile delinquent kinda boy. Black baseball cap, baggy khaki shorts, Papa's polo shirt, tongue ring, loud and the type who probably curses up a storm. Never seen her before, didn't know there were more queers in Delaware than I knew of already. I make a mental note to dress cute and come in someday and ask when she gets off work and would she like to take me to the movies across the street afterwards. Oh, she needs a shower, does she? Would she like to use mine; I live just around the corner. ::shakes head:: Whoa. Anyway.
I get back in the car, grinning.
Me: Well, I don't know her, but I certainly would mind it if I did!
Mom: ::laughing::
JD: Jack-IE!!!
Me: What?? What's wrong with that?
JD: I don't know... ::blushing::
Mom: There's absolutely nothing wrong with that at all. ::smiles::
..silence for a beat or two..
Mom: Was I right?
Me: Yes. She IS butch. But I'm sure I'm not the only one who has noticed that I tend to date that sort of girl anyway.
Mom: Well, duh! Oh, Jackie, I've known that for a long long time. You told me you were .. feminine, and I just figured that you would date that kind of girl.
Me: Yeah? Heh. Yeah.
I love her so, that mom of mine.
Anecdote 2:
So, my mom has ALWAYS had these dreams about my brother and I that involved natural disasters and other sorts of doom. In these dreams, she ends up in a position where she's trying desperately to alert us to danger or save us from it. Bears, floods, meteors, monsters, that sort of thing. I call them her Worried Mom dreams. Just now she called me into the hallway to tell me this:
"I had a dream last night. I was with Tom Cruise in this big park, having a picnic on a blanket. You were sitting somewhere on the ground close by and doing some sort of crafting with your head bent over your busy hands. Tom and I decided to go back to the car, so we got up and started to walk toward it. When we got there, we realized that we forgot the blanket and everything else. We laughed and then turned back to come get it. It was a big, long stretch of park that we had to walk from the car to the blanket. So we're walking along and I don't think we were holding hands or anything, but it was sort of a romantic thing anyway.
All of a sudden it started getting windy. Then we started to see dust flying by. I look up and there is this huge storm and it's coming straight for you. Like a tornado. I start running toward you and yelling, 'Jackie, Jackie! Run!' You didn't see me because you were so caught up in whatever you were making, and you couldn't hear me over the sound of the storm. I could see that I wasn't going to make it in time, so I kept running and screaming louder. And just before the tornado cloud came and engulfed you, I woke up panting and sweating with my heart racing."
All I could say was, "Geez, you can't even have a romantic dream without it turning into a Worried Mom dream where you have to save me or JD from some imminent danger." We both had a good laugh at that. Poor mom. Can't even mack it to Tom Cruise without me getting sucked into a freak weather system.
Anyway, this post is to be all about my mother and her cuteness.
Tonite we got pizza from Papa John's. We drove there and I sat in the car, in the backseat reading while my mom went in and ordered and my brother walked around dropping off filled-out applications to burger joints around there. My mom got back in the car and I continued to read while we waited for my brother to return to the car.
Mom: Jackie, can I ask you a question?
Me: Of course! ::closing my book::
Mom: Would it be an insult for me to say to you that someone is kind of ... well, butch?
Me: ::laughs:: No, not really.
Mom: Okay. ... Well, the girl who took my order just now, she's rather... butch. Butch and kind of surly... no, just sullen.
Me: ::giggle:: Oh yeah? ::trying to peek into Papa John's:: Who knows, maybe I know her.
Mom: Well, you can go in and pick up the pizza when it's ready, then.
...time elapses... I go in and get the pizza. The girl behind the counter is a superfuckinghott dyke who looks like a juvenile delinquent kinda boy. Black baseball cap, baggy khaki shorts, Papa's polo shirt, tongue ring, loud and the type who probably curses up a storm. Never seen her before, didn't know there were more queers in Delaware than I knew of already. I make a mental note to dress cute and come in someday and ask when she gets off work and would she like to take me to the movies across the street afterwards. Oh, she needs a shower, does she? Would she like to use mine; I live just around the corner. ::shakes head:: Whoa. Anyway.
I get back in the car, grinning.
Me: Well, I don't know her, but I certainly would mind it if I did!
Mom: ::laughing::
JD: Jack-IE!!!
Me: What?? What's wrong with that?
JD: I don't know... ::blushing::
Mom: There's absolutely nothing wrong with that at all. ::smiles::
..silence for a beat or two..
Mom: Was I right?
Me: Yes. She IS butch. But I'm sure I'm not the only one who has noticed that I tend to date that sort of girl anyway.
Mom: Well, duh! Oh, Jackie, I've known that for a long long time. You told me you were .. feminine, and I just figured that you would date that kind of girl.
Me: Yeah? Heh. Yeah.
I love her so, that mom of mine.
Anecdote 2:
So, my mom has ALWAYS had these dreams about my brother and I that involved natural disasters and other sorts of doom. In these dreams, she ends up in a position where she's trying desperately to alert us to danger or save us from it. Bears, floods, meteors, monsters, that sort of thing. I call them her Worried Mom dreams. Just now she called me into the hallway to tell me this:
"I had a dream last night. I was with Tom Cruise in this big park, having a picnic on a blanket. You were sitting somewhere on the ground close by and doing some sort of crafting with your head bent over your busy hands. Tom and I decided to go back to the car, so we got up and started to walk toward it. When we got there, we realized that we forgot the blanket and everything else. We laughed and then turned back to come get it. It was a big, long stretch of park that we had to walk from the car to the blanket. So we're walking along and I don't think we were holding hands or anything, but it was sort of a romantic thing anyway.
All of a sudden it started getting windy. Then we started to see dust flying by. I look up and there is this huge storm and it's coming straight for you. Like a tornado. I start running toward you and yelling, 'Jackie, Jackie! Run!' You didn't see me because you were so caught up in whatever you were making, and you couldn't hear me over the sound of the storm. I could see that I wasn't going to make it in time, so I kept running and screaming louder. And just before the tornado cloud came and engulfed you, I woke up panting and sweating with my heart racing."
All I could say was, "Geez, you can't even have a romantic dream without it turning into a Worried Mom dream where you have to save me or JD from some imminent danger." We both had a good laugh at that. Poor mom. Can't even mack it to Tom Cruise without me getting sucked into a freak weather system.
