Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Dr. Mom

My mother and I have a very complicated relationship.  Complicated in the sense that we're both clinically insane, love each other to pieces and miss each other terribly when we're apart.  However, when we do see each other, we remember every annoying thing the other hates...and we do it.

But as much as I nitpick her, she's really good at being around when I need her.  So with my husband out of town on business and me with one foot in the grave, my mother graciously made a return trip for a few days.
(At the airport)
Me: You made it!
Mom: I told you I was comin' to take care of my babies. 
Me: Thank you mommy.

Mom: No problem, honey *reaches over*
Me: Ma, stop hugging me, you're choking me.
Mom: How's that fever?
Me: It's fine. The fever was gone yesterday. *slap* Stop it! You can't cover my face while I'm driving.
Mom: I'm feeling your head. 

Me: You're crazy. There is no fever.
Mom: And look how skinny your face looks.
Me: I know, right?! Virus diet! I lost 8 lbs! 

Mom: You think that's funny?
Me: I'm kidding.
Mom: That's not funny. That's how the bulimics get started.
Me: I know for a fact that "The Bulimics" do not get started by having strep throat and a sinus infection. That doesn't even make sense. 

Mom: Yeah well it makes sense to me. And I didn't see you being so smart when I was on that computer spending [money] on a ticket with 24 hours notice.
Me: Are you seriously about to remind me of how much you spent to come down here? That is low.
Mom: Hmph.
Me: I'm takin you back to the airport.
Mom: And I will slap the bulimic out of you. Keep your hands on the wheel.
Me: *sigh*

Actual picture of my mother.

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Playground rules apply: Speak the way you'd like to be spoken to and if you don't play nice, I'm kicking you off my monkey bars.