My Mom

My mom is a great person. She has always been there for me, and has helped me grow up into the semi-functioning adult that I am today. Sometimes though, my mom will just randomly take a though pattern on a tangent, and throw common sense out the window.

Sometimes, I really can't tell what goes through her head. For instance, I may be on my computer or doing something in my room, and she calls to ask if I want a snack:
"Are you hungry?"
"No, I'm fine." (Knowing there is nothing in the house that I would want to eat.)
Five minutes later, she shows up with a plate of something random. You may say that I'm horrible for complaining when my mom tries to do something nice, and that she doesn't get the credit she deserves. So this might be true, but in reality she is just making unnecessary work for herself, after she subconsciously convinces herself that I'm hungry, when in fact, I am not. Even after I got my wisdom teeth out, she still tried to serve me stuff, though I was obviously in no condition to eat. The first day, she brought me out something, and the only thing I was able to mumble out through the gauze was "What do you expect me to do with this?"

What's worse is that stuff that she tries to bring me. On my own, I grab something easy, like chips or wheat thins. My mom turns making a snack into a small science experiment, trying to make some sort of new dish out of whatever is in the fridge or cabinets. One time she brought me Ritz crackers with cheese melted on them. Ritz with cheese is good and all, but stuck in the microwave, the crackers become like little circles of soggy rubber.

I know my mom tries to make good food sometimes, which is especially challenging after a couple weeks of not going to the store. However, the cream cheese sandwiches I was forced to eat in middle school beg to differ. A cream cheese sandwich is just what it sounds like, cream cheese in between two slices of bread. I usually had one of these bad boys packed in my lunch a couple days a week. Cream cheese is good on bagels and all, but that's really it. What's more, my mom really doesn't know the difference between it and sour cream. Just to let you know, chive and onion really isn't that great when put on a taco.

My mom treats the bathroom as something like Schrödinger's box. First off, she never closes the door when she goes pee, only after going out (which doesn't really make sense). When I go pee with the door closed, she barges in, and then apologizes because she didn't expect there to be anyone in there. Basically, she only knows if someone is in there if she can see them, and if the door is closed and can't see (or hear) anybody, it must be empty, despite seeing someone enter just before.

I guess leaving the contents of her brain where they should be would save me a lot of time puzzling about. Now and then, though, I will always think to myself "wtf was she thinking?"

1 Response to "My Mom"

  1. Anonymous September 7, 2010 at 12:33 AM
    I'm not one to comment on blogs, but I can seriously relate to the peeing with an open door thing. Infact, all my family does it :O
    Why people do that is beyond me...

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