More Mishaps by My Mom

With Mother's Day approaching us in mere hours...I would be remiss in not updating folks on what my mom has been up to lately. I'm a bit concerned. Two recent episodes are out of character for the hot-natured slaw aficionado.

Last week, Mom told me she was headed to town to pick up a few things. "I really don't have much to get. The main thing is slaw. I ran out." WHAT? Mom ran out of slaw? That's like somebody letting Carl T. Griffith's 1847 Sourdough Starter die off. Mom always has slaw. And spare slaw as a backup. The weather has not even kept Mom housebound at the bottom of her driveway. I can't believe she ran out of slaw!

Also last week, on Wednesday, I believe, Mom spoke softly on our morning phone call. "Are you sitting down? I don't want you to faint and hit your head." I guess that was her way of saying she didn't want me to knock myself unconscious while I was unconscious. "Are you ready? I just wanted to tell you that I turned my air conditioner on last night." WHAT? Mom turned on her air conditioner in April? That's tantamount to celebrating Christmas four months early. Mom never turns her air conditioner on until August. It's like a ritual for her. She dabs at the damp hair tendrils sticking to her neck, with paper towels (torn in half, of course), while lounging about in shorts and t-shirts, barefoot, professing that her house is cool, really, and she sees no need to waste money on air conditioning. Yes, our temperatures here in Backroads it the very upper 80s last week. Still, I'm shocked.

This morning she had a story to tell me. The Pony spent the night with her, so she went to the store around 7:00 to get him some donuts for breakfast. While she was in line, the cashier asked if she was with the man in front of her. The cashier was already ringing up his groceries. "Oh, NO!" said Mom. At the same time, the guy in front of her turned to look at her, and also exclaimed, "Oh, NO!"

Being Mom, she could not leave well enough alone. She always has to talk just a bit too much. She used to complain that an old lady in my childhood neighborhood would never say "Bye" during their phone calls, but would simply hang up when Mom was in mid-sentence. I'm not sure one can inherit such a trait. I'm sure nobody who reads here would even consider Val to be long-winded. But I have a sneaking suspicion that the old colleague I used to coach basketball with used a similar tactic to get off the phone with me. Can you imagine? And after HE called ME. It just seems unlikely that every time we were discussing practice, somebody would come to his door. "Oops! I've gotta go. Somebody's ringing the doorbell." Oh, I could actually hear the doorbell. But then he let slip one time, on a long bus ride, that he had gotten off the phone with the track coach's wife by reaching out on the porch to ring his own doorbell. The nerve of that guy! He could at least have had one or both of his twin daughters do that deed.

But getting back to Mom in line with a box of glazed donuts...she told the cashier. "Well, maybe I'm with him, if he's paying for my donuts." AND THE GUY DID!

"Here. Let me pay for those. Mother's Day is tomorrow. I'd like to pay. Really. Put that on my bill."

Of course Mom was mortified. She may count her change when I pay her for something she's picked up for me at the store, she might starve a tiny puppy rather than toss it a crust of bread, and she might only donate five dollars to the Extraordinary Dance, but she is really a generous lady who likes to pay her own way and not be beholden to anybody. She regretted not shutting her mouth. She had no idea the guy would offer to pay.

"It conly got me," Mom said. That's Backroads-speak for "I was surprised." We have our own lingo here in the hinterlands.

The Pony brought home the remainder of his donuts. Written on the box was $2.40. I'm not going to tell The Pony that a strange man bought his breakfast.

I might need to keep an eye on Mom. Next thing you know, she might be throwing away her gray sweatpants with the hole in the knee.