4/24/2006

Moms

I despair that I may be one of these creatures one day soon. My own mother left last week after a 6 day visit, and of course what better thing to do than blog about it? It does pain me to think that my own children will one day moan to their friends about me, yet here I am, too cool for my own mom. Oh, how the worm will turn.

Highlights of her trip include:

1) Her loud proclamation whilst shopping that I have no ass. I'm not saying that she brought up my asslessness in private later in a moment of mother/daughter bonding over Ben and Jerry's, but rather a boisterous and far too enthusiastic, "Pru, you have no ass at all!" when walking behind me in a public setting. Note to self - always make your mother walk with you or ahead of you so as to avoid any humiliation and much glancing at said flat ass by passers-by.

It gets worse, believe it or not. When countered with my insistence that as the girl that brings new definition to "Whitest person ever" I am not expected to have a budunkadunk, my 55 year old mother says (again, loudly), "I'm a white girl and I've got a big ol' booty." Uh. Yeah. File that in the "Things you never want to hear your mother say" portion of the brain.

2) I was making breakfast one morning and I had the radio on. Usher's "Yeah" came on, and rather than turning it off I endured it just to hear Lil' John say "Yeah" repeatedly just so I could be reminded of Chappelle's Show. Anyway, my mom comes groovin' into the kitchen, dancing in a way she thinks is hip-hop (as interpreted by the painfully unhip nearly-retired crowd), excitedly telling me how much she adores this song. I'm used to this sort of behaviour from her, so I just carried on cooking the bacon. That is...until it happened. She was grinding against an invisible retiree in her imaginary hip hop club for the over 50s and repeating the lyrics - "I want a lady on a street and a freeeak in the bed!" with far too much gusto. The song ended, she sighed with content at her little show, and I was left in the wake too speechless to flip the bacon.

3) In numerous outings with my mom during her trip, I had to put up with pokes and proddings each time a baby or small child would go by. It's as if she needed to remind me that hey - that stomach might turn into one of those things! She doesn't quite get that I'm child ambivalent, lately bordering on the child hating. I will love my child, but I see no point in gushing over the children of others. In my experience, they are mostly brats and I would like them to go away. When I told my mom this, in so many words, she shook her head with the sad recognition that the apple has fallen far, far from the tree.

My mom has been a special ed teacher for nearly 35 years. This is a woman that puts up with children spitting on her, biting her, vomiting on her, swearing at her, tweaking her nipples with glee, and a million other things that would make me chop them up and put them in a barrel. She, on the other hand, loves it. She'll put up with it all with a genuine smile on her face. I admire her immensely, but if you think I'm getting anywhere near that level of sainthood, forget it.

My mom tried very hard to convince me that I would grow maternally and surprise myself. I say, I'll believe it when I see it. Mom said that when your child puts their chubby little hands on your cheeks, cuddles up close, rubs his or her nose against yours and says, "My, you are one cute little fucker", you will be enamoured for life. Those kind words were uttered by one three year old Ms Prufrock to her mother in a moment of tenderness, and if Enid says that to me I will be shocked for a moment, but positively smitten.

17 comments:

EJW said...

"The song ended, she sighed with content at her little show, and I was left in the wake too speechless to flip the bacon."

It must have been really bad to interrupt the preparation of bacon. In my life, bacon is priority numero uno.

charlie's mom said...

Except Enid will call you something British, like 'wanker'.

Pamplemousse said...

Thank you for that giggle, Ms Pru. I haven't quite stopped yet either!!! I think you need a little hot Morrissey-grooving and singing-along to make you feel all better.

Anonymous said...

Pru, I admire your 3 year old self so much, but I admire your mom equally well for allowing that story to be repeated and remembered. Plenty of moms and dads would have tried to sweep it under the rug, and it's really one of the most hilarious stories ever.

Anonymous said...

I would pay money to watch a 3-year-old Pru call her mom a fucker.

I'm hoping your child has an adorable little British accent as well.

Your mom truly is a fruit bat. Gotta love her.

Anonymous said...

Awww...you were yourself even at three.
The mother story was a bit horrifying. More horrifying even than the time my mother tried to "rap," clapping her hands and stomping her foot as she did so, as if she were singing a sea chanty. At least there was no grinding...oh god, musn't.think.about.that.

I am so glad to see you posting. I have sorely missed my Innard Twin.

Bittermama said...

Oh sweet Lord. Not grinding. And in your kitchen. Unacceptable.

I'm currently trying to convince my mom that it's not the most considerate thing for her to come camp out at my house expecting care from me following an eye lift at the hospital where H. works, performed by one of his collegues, shortly after the baby's born. My god, how embarassing.

Eggs Akimbo said...

You'll be maternal. If you didn't have a smidge of it you probably wouldn't have felt the desire to have a baby.

Anonymous said...

I bet your mom will be a wonderful grandma. She sounds like a hoot.

But I know what you mean - my mom makes me cringe when she tries to be hip, too.

Unknown said...

Yeh, you'll be maternal. You'll just be the kind of matrnal that deliberately teaches your kid to say "fucker" and call the other kids "chavs".

MC said...

Thanks for the funny post. I so get the attitude towards other people's children.

MC said...

Forgot to add, I have a flat arse as well. My husband tells me this sometimes, but never in public.

Linda said...

Your mom sounds HILARIOUS! Well, at least to me, since she's not MY mom. Next time put some pillows down your jeans before stepping out.

Anonymous said...

Oh, Pru, that was utterly, painfully hilarious. My mother can be accused of many things (and she is, by gum, she IS) but never of trying to be hip. But this makes for much better reading!

Meg said...

Hi Pru - I stumbled here... and was amused by your images of your mother... Sad thing is, I imagine people already think of me like that, and I'm only 28.. I think something is very wrong...

Amyesq said...

Where ARE you? I know, like I can talk. But come on! I want to hear all is well...

Anonymous said...

Enjoy your wacky mom while you've got her! My mom was less wacky than passive-aggressive -- for instance, she decided that the perfect time to bring up the ONLY THING I ever got into serious trouble about as a kid -- writing naughty things on the back seat of the school bus -- was at the first family Thanksgiving dinner I was hosting, along with my soon-to-be-husband (with his sister also in attendance). Great timing, Mom! And on shopping expeditions, she loved to scream out at full volume, "That costs HOW much??" That said, I miss her terribly. Dance along to the crappy songs and call her a cute little fucker again. :)