>Yo’ Mama

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Mothers are strange creatures. Mine is no exception. My Mom wears pink more often than Lady Gaga changes her eyeshadow. She loves buying stuffed animals for our cousins that talk when you squeeze their bellies-though they are old enough to ride their bikes to school. And read chapter books on their own. She coos over every and all things monogrammed.
Though the list of strange-Mom-behavior could go on, I would simply be backing myself directly into the corner in which we’d inhabit together. Because, for all of the weird things my Mother does, the weirdest of it all is that I happen to be right there in the life boat with her, rowing the same damn way.
With that said, the fastidious writer that I am could not let this post go without a comprehensive list of the weird things my Mom and I share.
1. We both laugh until our faces turn an unattractive plum and tears hold our mascara hostage all the the way down our(long)noses at America’s Funniest Home Videos (the Danny Tanner version, not the new Dancing with the Stars guy), the story about the babysitter who got attacked by a squirrel and mom forced to go home early due to the fact that she thought rabies was an airborne disease, and fart jokes. Fart jokes, are, alas, always funny. Especially when my sister tells them.
2. We love to eat. We love to eat like Tom Cruise loves weird religions with aliens. Not only are we master consumers, but we are fearless and voracious in our eating. Tripe? Send it our way. Kim-Chi? More, please. Escargot? Why not? We may send it back if we hate it, or make funny faces and lie poorly about how “interesting” it is, but that will never stop us from shelling out some cash to try something new. There is never too great a price for a decent meal. Or, a good story. If you don’t get the one, you end up with the other.
3. We get bored. Easily. We have 800 hobbies between us-some, I bet we don’t know the other has. We like to learn new things, do new things, play new things. I bought her a red bass for christmas. She got me a kitchenaid. We’re strange, strange productive people.
4. We’re both maniacs on the road. We’ve never taken a running tally of how many times we’ve both been pulled over, with good reason. We tell cop stories like vets tell war stories. Mainly, to each other. It makes everyone else a little nervous.
5. We make shit up. Words. Ideologies. Pants sizes. 🙂 It’s the creative spirit in us.

It’s an amazing thing why it’s so surprising that we would be similar to the one that carried us for nine months.

But if I start buying pink sweaters, someone remind me that it’s in our differences where we find ourselves. 🙂

Love you, Mom.


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