The following is a recent phone conversation with my 78 year old mother:
Phone rings forever, finally picks up
My mom: (long pause) Hello! HELLO!
Me: Hey–
HELLO?!
Hey, Mom. Me and the kids are gonna-
Whaddya want!
I’m heading out to pick up some pizza so-
WHAT?
I SAID THE KIDS AND I ARE GONNA GO OUT TO PICK UP SOME PIZZA, SO DID YOU WANT–
Pizza! Oh, god, no! I had some pork chops last night. Fried it up with some olive oil…no buttah, you know how I’m tryin to lose weight…a little onion…some peppers…some Mrs. Dash. Oh! GOD! It was too spicy. Too spicy. You know I can’t have spicy. Well, maybe you don’t know, you never come over or talk to me these days. I’m just here all night. All alone. I could have died last night and no one would have known for days. Maybe weeks. But here I was last night, wide awake because of that damn Mrs. Dash I had. Stomach was all upset…
Ma…
…worst pain I’ve had in all my life…
Ma…
…bowels were all tied up in knots…
Ma!
Mrs. Dash! Oh, I dashed all right. Dashed to the bathroom all friggin night long is what I did. Oh gawd! It was terrible!
Oh, god….jeez, Mom!
It was 3 am before my stomach settled down….
Mom, look, I’m in a rush so I need to know if you–
…so I made myself a pot of coffee, cuz coffee helps me sleep ya know, I don’t care what they say…
Uh huh.
…and I watched a little TV, some of that Kenny Chesney. Oh, jeez! He’s awful. Always wearing that stupid hat. What is he trying to hide under there? But I love that other guy, the other country singer. Whats-his-face. You know the one!
Uh…
Oh, come on! You know that guy! The other guy!
Listen, Mom, I–
Keith Urban! That’s the one! He’s a good young man. Good looking, too. Married to that gawd-awful tall and skinny actress with the big chest. Pbbstt. She is so ugly!
Yeah.
And then I watched the CNN and OH MY GOD! That Mitt Rumney is gonna be president!
Oh, no, I don’t think so. I think–
Oh, yes HE IS! People always vote for the handsome guy. The good looking guy always wins and Rumney’s very good looking. Gah! I can’t stand that man! Thank the good lord above it’s not gonna be Newt the toot! God, he’s just terrible. Horrible, horrible man. He just runs around, cheats on his wife, his wives, his floozies, whoever or whatever god-forsaken poor pathetic woman who will actually sleep with him. God!
Yeah, I’m happy he’s–
But it’s just not right! Obama is the best president we’ve had in a long time! Well, maybe not, but he’s a helluva lot better than that idiot Bush. Gawd! And they’re sayin Obama should fix the gas prices! It’s near FOUR DOLLARS A GALLON! Did you know that? Oh, you probably did. Is that why you don’t take me anywhere? I am going stir crazy here. I need to get out. I’m going crazier than a squirrel trapped in a coffee can. Can you take me to the dollar store? Then I have to stop at the doctor’s so she can tell me this chest pain is all in my head and charge me more money! Jezum-crow! I’m just an old lady! I am broke! And she tells me she wants me to sign a living will. Yes! Well, of course I will, you moron. I want to die. Give me the damn pen, where do I sign? Can I put that in writing at the bottom? P.S. Don’t bring me back, whatever you do, doc. Just let me go! I don’t have much longer ya know, Darla. Could be days for all I know. Do you remember where my safe deposit box is?
Yeah. Look Ma, about the pizza–
And the key to it?
Uh huh.
And I don’t want any fancy-schmancy funeral. Just throw me in a box and dump me in the river down the road.
Ah, no, Mom, I don’t think they’d let me do that…
No? Hmm…
So–
So the gas is four dollars a gallon! So they blame, who else, Obama! Gawd! The poor man! He can’t fix everything for chrissake!
Ma! Did you want some piz–
…so now he’s to blame for the gas! Can I blame him for my weight gain too? Oh, I know! it’s HIS fault I ate those potato chips the other day! It’s just not right. Country is too busy pumping a giant handcart to hell. Same people always getting rich while the rest of us can’t afford a damn pot to piss in…
Uh…
…did you know what I saw on Dr. Oz the other day?
MOM!
WHAT! What do you want anyway!
I AM CALLING TO ASK YOU IF YOU WANT SOME PIZZA!
Pizza? Oh, god, no–you know I can’t have gluten.
phone clicks, dial tone
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