“Now that it’s time to say goodnight, there’s something I’ve been meaning to share with you, but I didn’t want to ruin the mood of the evening,” L’s Mother told me last night.
“Okaaaay,” I said, doing my best to brace myself.
“If you think about it, there’s got to be at least one couple out there somewhere who has roleplayed Doctor Honeydew and Beaker in a . . . you know . . .”
“Thank you for not ruing the mood of the evening!” I quickly interjected.
Me: *setting up the cleaning drone while the dog looks on suspiciously* Relax, Isa. I’m just having it do a little spot cleaning, not Spot cleaning, so it’s not going to chase you.
L’s Mother: *starts laughing uncontrollably*
Me: Your day’s been that hard, huh?
(Like I’ve said before, I just make the jokes, I don’t laugh at them.)
L’s Mother: What you wrote yesterday was a little mean spirited, you know. They probably just wanted to close the ticket since it was a larger problem already being worked on.
Me: Agree to disagree. They’re the ones who set the rule of “If you don’t respond, we’ll consider the matter resolved.”
L’s Mother: (Without irony) Even so . . . did you try the simple and obvious fixes? That usually work for me.
Me: (Suspiciously) Is this what gaslighting feels like?
In honor of Thanksgiving, L’s Mother asked me to go seventy-two hours without sharing anything even remotely negative no matter how interesting or funny, so . . .
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
This morning right after I woke up and stumbled to the kitchen, L’s Mother started talking to me, and out of the blue said, “You’re my best friend.”
I knew my response to that, but I was too tired to formulate the words at the time, so I smiled and made myself a cup of tea. After I was more awake though, I sought her out in the kitchen, put my arms around her and whispered in her ear, “Nobody is my best friend when I’ve just woken up.”
“Is it a full moon?” L’s mother asked me last night. (It wasn’t.) “Because my teeth feel extra sharp tonight.”
Now some people would find this a strange thing to say, but not me since I knew exactly what she was talking about. What I found strange was what she (without any intent of being funny) said next:
“Oh well, are you ready to try that blood, I mean bread pudding I made?”
L’s Mother: Would it be asking too much for you to get me some ice?
Me: At the moment, yes. I can do it a bit though.
L’s Mother: Okay. It’s just that I burnt myself and . . .
Me: *sighing because once again she has buried the lead*
Another sign you may need coffee is if someone places a large, bright red travel mug full of coffee on your desk while you are away, then stops by a few moments later, points to said bright red mug literally in front of you and asks, “You noticed that, right?”, and your response is a confused, “Noticed what?”.
A couple weeks back I asked L’s Mother, “What does “LB” stand for on the calendar?”
“Oh!” she replied. “You know how we got woken up by a leaf blower this morning?”
“Yeah . . .”
“Well,” she continued, “I want to track how often that happens so I know if it’s a one-time or even just an occasional thing, or if it’s something I’m going to have to ask someone to stop.”
“Fair enough,” I said.
Today after being woken by a leaf blower, I noticed the calendar had dutifully been marked . . .
. . . with “FLB.”
L’s Mother (who absolutely adores dark chocolate, the darker the better): Did I make the dessert too much to my tastes?
Me (choking and flashing back to the time I ate unsweetened baking chocolate as a child): That’s . . . one way to put it.
Candles & Curses 