Greetings to you too, Mom


My mom knocks on my door. I answer it.

Me: “Hi Mom. I didn’t know you were coming over.”
Mom: “Your father is driving me crazy. Here’s 1000 sheets of paper towels I got from Canadian Tire, Truth or Dare on DVD and Jack Layton’s dead.”
Me: “Wait, where are you going…”

Commie Fag (Reprise)

About 2 weeks ago, I posted that my mother unknowingly wore one of my “Commie Fag” shirts out in the garden all day. We’re gardening again today and she just came upstairs to ask for a t-shirt.

Mom: “Where is that shirt I wore last time?”
Me: “I have a CN Tower Climb one you can wear.”
Mom: “It’s okay. I’ll just wear that one because I’m going to get sweaty.”
Me: “I meant to tell you about that shirt: it has profanity on it. Also, you don’t want to be referred to as a Communist, do you?”
Mom: “So what?”
Me: “The neighbours will think you’re nuts.”
Mom: “Good! That means they’ll stay away and leave me in peace.”
Me: “Here’s the CN Tower shirt. You’re not wearing the other one again.”
Mom: [walks away] “Fine! But people should mind their own business. If anyone anyone says anything to me today about it, they can just FUCK off.”

Looking Back

Mom: I brought you some old photo to put up. More picture in your house!
Me: Thanks! That’s so nice. Wow, I was a pretty cute baby.
Mom: Yes…
Me: Is that really me?
Mom: Who else would it be?
Me: It doesn’t really look like me.
Mom: Yes, you were veeeeeeeery good looking back then.
Me: *silence*

Assumptions

I went over to my parents’ for dinner last week and my mom’s kitchen window looks out to a bunch of other people’s backyards and decks.

Mom: Did you know neighbours over there are homosexual?
Me: Oh. I’ve never seen them before. Do you talk to them?
Mom: Yes, I help Paul plant some bushes.
Me: Well, that’s nice of you.
Mom: Paul wear pantsuits. Sometime high heels. Walks like woman.
Me: Well, maybe you can give him some makeup tips.
Mom: They like sit outside and eat. See? They eating now. Boyfriend don’t dress up like Paul. He more masculine.
Me: They look nice.
Mom: Do you know Paul’s boyfriend’s name?
Me: No, what is it?
Mom: I ask you! You know them, right?

Exercise Tips

Mom: How are you feeling?
Me: I’m still a little sick but I’ve lost some weight from not eating.
Mom: It looks like you gained 10 lbs last month. Don’t tell me you lost it!
Me: Well, I want my abs back. All I do now is sit around in an office chair.
Mom: Do you wear belt?
Me: Why?
Mom: If you wear belt, you lose weight in belly.
Me: Mom, that’s so not true.
Mom: WHAT? IT TRUE!
Me: No…
Mom: Do you know how Mama exercise? I clench stomach. No have to move!
Me: Mom, I’m not doing that.
Mom: Try! Wear tighter pants too. No sport pants.
Me: Mom, you’re being ridiculous.
Mom: Look at fat people. All wear sweatpants!

There Goes The Neighbourhood

Mom: “A bunch of your neighbours came by earlier today when you stepped out. I was outside gardening and they asked for some buds.”
Me: “Oh, that’s nice. Ya, give them anything.”
Mom: “And some just came over to talk.”
Me: “Great. Finally, my neighbours don’t think I’m a weirdo.”
Mom: “I borrowed one of your t-shirts to garden in because I didn’t want to get my blouse all sweaty.”
Me: “Sure.”
Mom: “I wasn’t sure which one so I just picked one that was in the back of your closet.”
Me: “Oh, that’s fine.”
Mom: “I put it in the washing machine.”
Me: “Great, I was just about to do some laundry.”

Mom leaves for home and after the dryer goes off, I bring the hamper upstairs to start my folding.
I finish folding everything except for the last shirt which I didn’t recognize or remember wearing at all this week.

Oh, it must be one of my old shirts Mom borrowed for outside. Hope it fit her okay. It was inside out so I flipped it back:

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

Dr. Mom

“Mom, you know I’m allergic to cherries. I’ve told you about 100 times.”
“Really? Are you sure you don’t just get cold?”
“What? No, I break out into hives.”
“You should wear a sweater.”

Globar Walming


“Did you know polar bears are starving to death?”
“I did.”
“It’s so sad.”
“Well, global warming…”
“Your father says he doesn’t believe in globar walming. One scientist said it doesn’t exist.”
“Ok, but a lot of scientists say otherwise.”
“Your father says that the sun has been shining for millions of years and it’s the hottest thing ever.”
“I don’t get it.”
“You don’t see anything dying from that!!!”

In Hot Water


Me: How was the cruise?
Mom: Okaaaaaaaay, one mean man behind bar.
Me: Oh, what happened?
Mom: He always say “Hot water? I give you hot water?”
Me: What’s wrong with that? Chinese people love hot water. It’s probably saving him time by asking.
Mom: So??? That’s not nice. He’s stereotyping us. Daddy like coffee. Friends like wine.
Me: But you wanted hot water, didn’t you?
Mom: HE RACIST!

Surrogate Mom

Me: So Dad seems happier.
Mom: Yes. He no depressed no more. Stock market do good. Citibank!
Me: That’s good. I hope he’s happier with me.
Mom: Yes. But one thing bad. You not have baby or family. Dad funny about you gay life.
Me: Mom, I told you. I can still have a baby but I need to find a partner first.
Mom: That hard. You picky. I give you money to pay woman to have baby.
Me: But what if I want to adopt a black baby?
Mom: No. I give you money. You find woman. Don’t tell Daddy. $30, 000 okay?
Me: Mom, don’t be crazy.
Mom: WHY NOT? Good idea!
Me: Maybe you can have it for me. I laugh at my own joke but quickly realize some of the incestuous mental images that were percolating and I immediately tried to change the subject. So what’s for dinner?
Mom: [yells] I TOO OLD!!!
Me: [still shuddering] Oh mom… Let’s not talk about it anymore…
Mom: I can’t have baby now. IT COME OUT RETARD!!!

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