Two Messed Up Moms

The other day, Skeletor, a.k.a., my mother, made one of her daily surprise visits to my house. From my living room, I can see her drive around the corner. Typically I jump up, grab my keys and run out the door muttering that I was just running out to go to (insert fictitious location here).


But I wasn't dressed yet, so I knew that I would have to suck it up and stay there. (From now on I am going to sleep in jeans and a t-shirt to make sure I am always ready)!


When my mother walks in the door, all conversation, activity, tv show, meals, etc. must immediately stop so that we can pay full attention to whatever she has to say.


Her favorite topics are as follows:


1. "My dog wouldn't poop this morning. Or my dog went right
out and pooped."

2. "Do you think it's going to be hot/cold/rain/snow?
Or alternatively, "Weathermen lie."

3. "Dan, check the oil in my car" (which he just checked a week ago).

4. "I am getting so fat. I weigh 110 lbs. How much do you weigh, Briana?

5. "Have you talked to Charmaine? She never calls me. Is she looking
for a job?"

The rest of her statements comprise of a plethora of veiled (or unveiled) insults and attempts to invoke guilt that I have ruined her life or that she is going to die soon.


On this particular occasion, Gunnar was sitting across the table from me. In the middle of one of her diatribes, he looked at me and very seriously said, "Mom, I am so sorry that you had to endure this as a child. I understand why you are so messed up."


I'm not kidding. He really said that.



I burst out laughing. Gunnar was laughing. Skeletor can't hear anything other than herself so she had no clue. It was funny. And sad. But mostly funny!


This is Gunnar playing his guitar at Red Rocks Ampitheater. He's going to be famous one day. Trust me!


http://mythreesons-briana.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-son-rock-star.html