Kalamazoo Versus Vindaloo

, , , , , , | Related | December 8, 2017

(I’m driving around on some errands with my boyfriend in the passenger seat next to me and my mom in the backseat. My mom has a tendency to say random things that she notices, out loud. My boyfriend is a bit of a jokester; usually I roll my eyes and call him a dork, but this particular day I’m more energetic than usual.)

Mom: “Huh, they tore down that building. Wonder why.”

Boyfriend: “They’re putting in a Kalamazoo.”

Mom: “A what?”

Boyfriend: “A Kalamazoo!”

Me: “Yeah, it’s a restaurant.”

Mom: “Oh. Haven’t heard of it. I wonder what type of food they’ll serve.”

Me: “It’s an Indian place.”

Mom: “Cool. We’ll have to try it when they’re done.”

(By this point my boyfriend and I couldn’t hold in our laughter and Mom realized we were messing with her. She started laughing, too, and called us brats.)

Politely Depressing

, , , , , | Related | December 8, 2017

(Our parents are out at the theatre, so my brothers and I are left at home. Some time after they leave, my younger brother asks to speak to me upstairs in our room, looking sad. I go up and he starts crying, stressed and sad because of a combination of puberty hormones and tonsillitis. His nose starts bleeding, which is common for him, and I usher him into the bathroom, trying to calm him down. Our older brother storms up the stairs. It should be noted that he has a habit of not noticing his tone, so we often have to ask him to be more polite.)

Older Brother: *angrily* “Can you please stop crying? It’s really depressing!”


(My brother makes an indignant face and storms off downstairs. He turns back to fling this at me.)

Brother: “I asked POLITELY!”

That Scene Has Gone Viral

, , , , , , | Related | December 7, 2017

(My mom is suffering from a terrible cold. We’re both in the kitchen. She goes to get a cup of water and is very careful to only touch the cup she’s going to use.)

Mom: “I don’t want to touch anything I don’t have to. I’m afraid I’m infecting everything I touch.”

Me: *laughs*

Mom: “What?”

Me: “I was just imagining two viruses re-enacting that scene from The Lion King. ‘Look, Simba. Everything that woman touches is our kingdom.’”

Mom: “You are one strange cookie.”

It’s No Laughing Matter

, , , , , | Related | December 7, 2017

I was in my bedroom changing when my six-year-old son started to walk in. I was standing right behind the door so the door only opened a few inches before hitting me.

I called out to him, “I’m changing!” and his reply, in that sweet innocent voice of a young child, was, “Don’t worry, Mommy; I won’t laugh at you!”

Gee, thanks…

Determining Detergent Detriment

, , , , | Related | December 7, 2017

(I am away to college for the first time and have resorted to buying a cheap brand of laundry detergent. My mom comes up at the end of the semester to help me move, and her nostrils immediately flare.)

Mom: “What detergent do you use?”

Me: “[Detergent Brand #1].”

Mom: “So, that’s what smells. You have to throw it away.”

Me: “What, why?”

Mom: “I’ll buy you more of [Detergent Brand #2] and rewash all your clothes. Let’s go.”

(I’m annoyed that we’re doing this, worried that my mom thinks I can’t handle this adulting task. But d*** it, if she isn’t right! The new brand is so much better and makes my clothes smell heavenly. I continue to use this product. A year later, I go back home to visit. My mom and I are sitting on the couch when she looks at me.)

Mom: “I still smell it.”

Me: “What?”

Mom: “[Detergent Brand #1].”

Me: “That’s impossible; I’ve only used the laundry detergent you told me about.”

Mom: *sniffs* “I can still smell it.”

(Years later, I’ve moved a province away and have been teaching for two years. I have new clothes, but I still use the detergent my mom turned me onto. I come home for a brief visit in the summer, when…)

Mom: “I can still smell that [Detergent Brand #1].”

(At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if these were her deathbed comments.)

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