Sometimes visiting my mom is like going on Oprah. Or rather, at least what I would imagine going on Oprah would feel like, minus everyone getting a car and her dictating what books I read. I go for a quick visit and all of a sudden I’m being told everything I’m doing wrong in life and how I should fix it and why don’t I just listen to her once in a while, god damn it? My evening with dear old mom when something like this:
Upon me entering and not even sitting down yet:
Mom: Okay, lemme see it.
Me: Uh. Really? Can I sit down first?
Me: Oh. Ok.
Mom: Jesus, that thing is ugly. I mean, it’s not *as* bad as I thought it would be, I guess. Kind of looks like a prison tattoo.
Me: Oh. Ok.
Mom: So…..any new boyfriends?
Mom: Zero prospects?
Me: Affirmative. S’aint happenin’.
Mom: What’s the problem, here? Why can’t you meet anybody?
Me: Dunno. I mean, to be honest, I’m not even trying even a little. I’m just living my life. I don’t care. I want the iPhone 4.
Mom: What? Huh? You make zero sense.
Me: Forget it. It was a joke!
About ten minutes later:
Mom: You need to find a boyfriend who will cook for you.
Me: Ha! Ok! Sounds like a plan!
Mom: You’re malnourished.
Me: No. A steady diet of peanut butter and macaroni and cheese is perfectly nutritious.
Five minutes later:
Mom: What about some of those dating websites?
Me: LORD, NO!
Mom: It has to be better than speed dating, right?
Me: I’M NOT SPEED DATING! JESUS! Do you think I’m that desperate?
One minute later:
Mom: Maybe if you stopped getting tattoos and you cut your hair you would get a date.
Me: I don’t want a date.
Mom: You do.
Me: No. Dates cause problems. Right now I’m problem free. Let’s keep it that way.
Mom: You will never give me grandchildren.
Ah, a mother’s love. What a sweet, lovely thing it is.