Conversation With My Mother

scene: putting dishes into cabinets in new apartment...

Mom: Did I tell you I got the new Beyonce CD?

me: hmphfgheesl;kjf!!!! (that is how you spell the sound of the Mountain Dew that was in my mouth spewing out of my nose)

Mom: What?!

me: So does this mean you're now bootyliscious?! (major sarcastic tone implied)

Mom: As a matter of fact, I am bootyliscious.

me: So, really now. Is she the rep for your new fragrance?

Mom: yeah, that's how I got the CD. I told your sister that I had it and she asked me to mail it to her. I told her I was going to keep it and maybe I like Beyonce!

me: Do you?

Mom: Well, I put in the CD, listened to one song, and yeah, she can have it.


Never did I think I would be discussing Beyonce with my mother, the woman with the perpetual crush on Ricky Nelson and Josh Groban. Wonders never cease.

Conversations I Will Miss

*Updated to add this conversation:

crash! from KellsBells room. A few minutes later, the dad visits, and then, a few minutes later, the mom is heard vaccuuming. I come out from behind closed doors as the scene is winding down.
me: sounds like the vaccuum is working
aunt (mom): just sounds like it. It's not picking anything up.
me: what broke?
aunt (mom): the light fixture on her ceiling fan broke
me: how?
aunt (mom): tell her KellsBells
KellsBells: um...a jump rope and a hula hoop
we walk off and I whisper to her mother: Well, you do remember the Baton Twirling Incident of 1983 that left my ceiling fan light fixture in a pile on the floor
aunt (mom): it's why we don't have batons in this house.


Katybug: Where's Mom?
me: She ran away and joined the circus?
Katybug: Doing what?
me: Lion Tamer, duh...
Katybug: makes sense.

Cousins

My cousins are in town for the weekend. Because we're from Mississippi (betcha didn't know my family was from Mississippi...), they're actually my second or third cousins, once or twice removed. You lose count after awhile. Actually, considering we're all pretty much one-to-two kid families, we have cousins all over the place.

These cousins that are in town now are my favorites. I gladly hand over the guest room to them when they're in town. They live in Wiggins, which is a small town where everyone knows your name and your family. His name is Buddy (did I mention they live in Mississippi?) but everyone in town calls him "Coach." He even taught Chris Boykin (II) of "Rob and Big" fame. He's a celebrity in our house for that one! His wife is Gina, and she is your quintessential Mississippi woman, though few people know what that truly is. She is the most loving person in the world, and she curses like a sailor. She loves dogs, and has run over all but one of the dogs she owns. Don't worry. They've all survived. They always do. It's what happens when you let your dogs run all over town like they do in Mississippi. She also has a wicked sense of humor.

So, when Fabio called her cell phone, she screamed "You B#$%#! I'm going to beat your a$$!" with all the love in her heart. And we must have laughed for a half an hour, bringing both girls out of their rooms to find out what the h-e-double-hockey-sticks we were laughing about.

I absolutely love it when they are in town, and will completely clear my schedule no questions asked when they are here, like I've done this weekend. We're going antique shopping and to a girl movie and out to dinner and I'll gladly give up my room for all of it!

I'm Not Worthy

Don't think of this as a "not worthy of God's grace and love thing." I'm not, but that's not what this is about. Think of it in more of a Wayne-and-Garth-meet-Alice-Cooper kind of way. I discovered today that I am not worthy.

My cell phone is on the national do not call list. So, if you want to sell me a set of Ginsu knives, don't bother my cell. However, a few months ago, I got a peculiar call. It was Fabio. No, seriously. Fabio. Stop laughing! I'm not kidding! Fabio called my cell phone!! I didn't recognize the number, and didn't answer. Don't worry. He left a message. He's very courteous. I saved the message to play to my friends and family just because it was freaking hilarious. Throughout the course of the message, he called me by name and told me that he thought I was beautiful (I bet he says that to everyone), said he knew how hard teaching was and said he thought I could use a break. He then went on to tell me that he would love to take me away to his private mediteranian island and together we could have some toast and neither of us would be able to believe it's not butter. That's when I was pretty sure it was a promotional call. I still saved the message to share with other friends and family, but for whatever reason, never got around to it.

Fast forward to today, when my aunt suspiciously asks me "Hey, did you ever get a phone call from Fabio?" to which I replied "yeah, a while back...did you get one too?"

At which point she laughed. At which point I knew she had done it. And I was not worthy. She is the master (second only to a 70+ year old man at church- different story for a different time) of pranksterness. She's died my dog pink. She's played many a prank on me. She's single-handedly responsible for my humor development. And now, she's arranged Fabio to ring me on my cell and invite me to a private island. I'm not worthy.

Apparently, you can go online here and arrange for Fabio to call your friends and family as well.
My sister should be hearing from Fabio any minute...

Happy More-of-a-Brother-Than-an-Uncle Day

My aunt is only 13 years older than I am, and has been my best friend since birth. She lived with me for a while after my dad died, so it's only natural that I live with her and her family and kids while they're growing up. So, she's more like a sister than an aunt. By that logic, her husband is more like a brother than an uncle.

I have favorite uncles. Uncles that I see every so often, and have fond childhood memories of lakes and barbecues and such. But my aunt's husband- well, I've lived with him. He's seen me in my pajamas almost every day, made fun of every single thing I've ever cooked, and given me a multitude of different methods for catching me a husband (none of which are feasible or-for that matter- sane).

While my aunt and the girls are at Kanakuk, it's just been me and him and the dogs at home. So last night, when the tornado sirens were blaring at 2:something in the morning and I was still sleeping passed out in a Tylenol-PM-induced stupor, he came and got me up before he checked the weather, before he turned on the tv, and before he checked weather.com. Now, he misused the word "alarm" for "siren" so I kept asking what time it was and started to get in the shower before the confusion was sorted out, but it's the thought that counts.

My uncle...he's good stuff.

Dorothy? Is That You?

Southerners are peculiar people.

I was, for the most part, raised in Texas. Most people don't consider that the true South. But my mother, aunt, and many other influential-in-my-life family members were raised in Mississippi. To this day I still don't pronounce the middle "iss." So, I don't wear white after Labor Day and before Easter. And if something good happens, I cook. If something bad happens, I cook. And I don't wear shoes if I can help it.

My relatives are very southern as well. This makes for quite a bit of entertainment in general. So tonight, we had some wild weather, and as the tornado sirens are going off in my backyard, and I'm trying to get three dogs into a very small bathroom, the phone rings. It's a cousin that's now living in Florida. This is the message I hear:

"Hey ya'll it's Darnell. I was just watching the tv and just wanted to let you know that ya'll are havin' some tornadoes where ya'll are. Are ya'll watching it? I hope ya'll are okay."

Just cracked me up! And, as I'm now watching the television news coverage of the aftermath, I can't help but wonder why the news stations pick the seemingly-least-articulate of all Texans to go on television and talk about what happened. No wonder other states make fun of us.