My mother kisses me with that mouth?
This morning my mom and I drove into Anchorage together. She drops me off at my notjob on her way to her actualjob. She asked me how the notjob was going and said that if she lived in Anchorage she would consider volunteering there as well.
Me: You could volunteer at the Eagle River branch, though.
Mom: Chuh. I'd have to get immunized before I could volunteer there.
On the way home we had this exchange after the big truck in front of us took its sweet time getting out of intersection, leaving us trailing behind as an easy target for other large assault vehicles or animals.
Mom: [general expressions of annoyance at the slow person in front of us]
Me: He has a handicapped sticker.
Mom: Oh, whatever. Just about anyone can get one of those things now. If he were really handicapped he would be driving one of those special cars.
Me: [blink]
As I opened my mouth to tell her I was going to blog that, she said, "And you can blog that. I don't even care."
So. Strong words, friends. If you're going to be having a handicapped sticker on your car you'd better make sure there's a forklift attached to it. Or something else to show my mom that you're not faking.
Also, Happy Late Birthday to my mother. She looks about 15 years younger than her actual age, which I must either attribute to great genetics or to the bathing in the blood of virgins by moonlight.
I'm not judging.
I'm Steph, a librarian and mom of 3 (not sure how that happened). Let's chat books, food, Sumptuous Literary Adaptations, poop, knitting and maybe some crazy Mormon Feminism.
4 comments:
I am very proud of us all for not perpertuating that cranky driver syndrome an additional generation. Go us.
Also, the blood of virgins makes sense. That could be why she has so many bath produts. I never looked at it like that before.
One of my favorite parts about BYU Police Beat is reading about all the handicapped people fighting each other for the parking spaces and accusing each other of not being handicapped. Can I please witness one of these exchanges one day?
My favorite handicapped sticker person is my neighbor, who can't accept callings because she hurt her back one time. Also she tells everyone she has lupus. What she actually has is something with "lupus" in the name, but in reality it's simply poor circulation. So I guess that warrants a handicapped sticker. Sorry to add fuel to coolmom's fire, but there it is. Still, I don't advocate the judging of people you don't know. If you know them, go for it!
And Neighbor, if you're reading this, I'm sure you're mistaken about who I am. I live in Kansas and have short, blonde hair. Also, I was never your Visiting Teacher.
I'm at 18 weeks in my pregnancy and I guess I don't really look it because I used one of those parking spots the other day and I got some of the dirtiest looks of my life from other women in the parking lot.
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