I've written before about how she tends to send ME flowers on Valentines Day so that I will call her to thank her, which in turn gives her the opportunity to remind me that I missed celebrating her first date with my Dad, which happened on Valentines Day. She always seems surprised that I didn't send her a card for the anniversary of her first date. We dance that one every year. Sometimes we dance one about celebrating her birthday in September.
Today I got an email from her entitled, "Moi."
It contained two pictures of my mother looking stiff and uncomfortable, standing in her front lawn. Her bright lips are pursed, her eyes are squinting against the sun, her back is slightly hunched, and her fingers have been caught in mid-twitch. I used to hate holding her hand as a kid, because her fingers would tap, twitch, tippy, tap the entire time. It always felt as if she were just about to pull her hand away. And here they are, twitching in the photograph, ring finger and thumb touching the palm.
And what did the email say?
Here are two pics of me while I am still 68--I turn 69 next Thursday. Love, Mom
Subtle. Real subtle.
7 comments:
She is a trip. I bet she doesn't do that to your f*ck-up brother.
OK, after sending the picture by private email to Meeegan (note the long E, please), I have independent confirmation that she does look just as uncomfortable as I thought she did.
Love having my own points of view seconded.
And I have to post Meeegan's suggestion here: She says to let my Mom know that I'm saving all my attention and generosity for when she turns seventy.
I"m so bad. Twenty lashes with a wet noodle.
Looking for the silver lining, at least she gives you a heads-up, instead of hoping you'll forget so she can spring a major guilt trip the next day.
I would suggest a counter-point to Meeeegan's suggestion, and reply something along the lines of "What? You're only 68?" I could have sworn you were 72. My bad!"
What Chris said. 'oh, whoops! and here I thought I was missing 72."
And it could be passive-aggressively worse--my mom would insist no no no no please nothing on mother's day and I'd believe her. whoops!
LOL. And it's so easy to laugh when it's someone else's mother.
A couple weeks ago, I called my dad to find out how things went with his rotator cuff operation. My mom didn't know I'd called. So she called later that evening to chew me out for not having called. "Perhaps you need to talk to your husband about these things," I told her. She had to back-pedal fast, and then she found something else to bitch me out over -- oh, right, I remember: she had to tell me what my brother (who is NOT a doctor) had learned about the Dangers of Prilosec.
She got into screaming mode in record time.
Oops. She got ME into screaming mode in record time.
She is always in screaming mode.
Gee whizz. And I complain that I never hear from my mother. It's like as soon as I moved away I didn't exist anymore. She's surprised when I call her, like she forgot I was alive. Oh well. Suppose I shouldn't complain as the other side of the coin isn't any better.
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