I am visiting my mother for Mother’s Day. I know it’s important to my mom that I attend church, so I allow her to drag me to her church on Sunday morning. Right as we are leaving, I get a call from work because they are having issues with a program I support. So, during the drive, I stay on the phone, walking them through some suggestions of how to debug what is happening to fix the program.
Me: “I’d diff them, then grep the diff for that DN and pipe it to WC.”
Mother: “It’s a good thing you’re finally going to church because you’re already speaking in tongues!”
I visit my mom and stepdad for a few days to celebrate my birthday. For my birthday dinner, I request Cuban sandwiches and to help Mom make an apple pie. Once we’re finished with the sandwiches, Mom and I get to work on the pie. Shortly, the apples are peeled and we’re cutting them into pieces and putting them into the crust. I keep popping pieces into my mouth instead of the pie.
My mom addresses me in a tone that says she knew this was inevitable but she’s still aggravated.
Mom: “You’re supposed to be helping me make the pie!”
Me: “Mom… I’ve been ‘helping’ you make food like this for over thirty years!”
When my brother is five and I am three, my mother attempts to go to the bathroom by herself. When she comes out, she finds me holding an apple that has been impaled on two knives, eating it like corn on the cob. She promptly takes it away.
Mom: “[Brother], why did you do that?!”
Brother: “She wanted an apple, but I couldn’t reach the apples, but I could reach the knives!”
Mom: “You could have hurt yourself!”
Brother: *Suddenly sobbing* “I did hurt myself!”
He brought his hands out from behind his back to reveal that he had cut himself on the web of one hand. Mom cleaned him up and brought us to the hospital. Because she was so concerned about getting him seen, she didn’t change us out of our pajamas, and my brother was wearing Superman pajamas, cape and all. By the time we were ready to go home, several doctors had stopped by to say hi to “Superman” and compliment him for being so brave while he got his stitches.
It was a while before Mom trusted us to behave ourselves enough to go to the bathroom alone again.
I’m gay and my family is very supportive. I’m visiting home from college during Thanksgiving break, and I invite my boyfriend to come along. We get a warm welcome and dinner goes smoothly.
On Friday, traditionally, my mother makes a lot of candy and we ship them off to friends and relatives. My boyfriend and I help box everything up. This year, she has decided to make about six different kinds of fudge.
As my boyfriend and I are cutting, wrapping, and boxing up the candy, my mom sticks her head into the den.
Mom: “How are my little fudge packers doing?”
My boyfriend and I burst into laughter, and it took us fifteen minutes before we were able to stop giggling long enough to explain to her what “fudge packer” meant.
My then-boyfriend is now my husband. I love my family.
When she was younger, my little sister was… a brat. She had to have the best clothes and the best things in life, and she was always chatting with her friends on her mobile. One morning, my mum got a text message from my sister… who was in her bedroom, three rooms away, asking for her to make her some breakfast. My mother took a breath.
Mother: *Texting* “Okay, what do you want?”
My sister responded that she wanted an egg and bacon with a muffin. My mother’s own “McMuffins” were a Sunday special in our house. So, my mother complied. She got a plate, place an unopened egg, a cold piece of bacon, and a muffin on it, walked it to my sister’s room, and placed it in front of her.
Sister: “You didn’t cook it”
Mother: “You didn’t specify!”
And she left the room. My sister never asked my mother for breakfast through a text ever again.
