Published by: 0

It’s happening. I sense it peeking around the corners at me. It lurks in the back alleys waiting with all the patience of a cat watching a mouse hole. It smells my blood. It knows, oh yes indeed, it knows there’s no way I can escape my own mother growing inside me.

Don’t get me wrong, my mom is AWESOME! and to see those little sparks of her emerging from me during certain situations isn’t always a bad thing, unless it’s when that part of her is the part that wants to smack some idiot upside the head with a two-by-four. Not that mom ever did that of course, at least not literally – that I know of. Twice this week I have wished for said two-by-four. In fact, a large hammer and two shovels were given serious consideration late Monday morning by myself and two of my fellow co-workers.  Ah, yes. The joys of working with liars and thieves. Gotta love it! Said thief rather reluctantly returned the ill-gotten booty this morning. Guess there is some sort of guilty conscious in there after all. I made sure to thank the person for the return of the ‘mistakenly taken’ property.

But, in the heat of the  moment when I realized what had happened, my mother emerged in one of her darkest forms. You just don’t want to mess with Jackie when she sees an injustice being done ‘cuz she’ll damn well set you straight right to your face and not give a flying fu… erm fish, what you or anyone else thinks about it.  Right is right and wrong is wrong.

Mom came out again last night while Jim and I were at Karaoke.  I don’t drink a lot. When Jim and I go out I will have usually just one beer or mixed drink then go right for ginger ale on the rocks. Last night I indulged and was half way through my second beer when it happened.

Some dork had arrived earlier and was either smashed out of his mind or off his medication. I suspect both. Jim and I are sitting listening to the singers of wide ranging abilities croon to their hearts content and this dude is getting louder and louder and by his own mistake, he sat down next to me just moments before Jim went up to talk to the DJ about a song. Feeling pretty brave, ya know, with all of 1.5 bottles of liquid courage running like wild fire through my veins, I tried to very,  very hard to ignore this guy. I really did. But when every other word was spoken was the F-bomb and said less than a foot from my ear, Mom has her limits.

My mother turned on that bar stool I had sat so quietly at all evening and she looked at him through my eyes and said, “Do you mind? I am trying to listen to these people sing and if you say ‘f—‘ in my ear one more time I’m going to knock your ass off that barstool. Shut the f— up!”  *ahem* He looked back at me as if I’d suddenly grown a second head. “What? I wasn’t swearing.” I replied with, “Don’t what? me. All you’re saying to me is F-this and F-that. Say it again and I’m gonna smack ya.”  Apparently a friend of his overheard this and came over and said, “Is he bothering you.” I said he was and for the next five minutes or so she stood there talking to him telling him to stop cussing and leave people alone. I turned my attention back to the stage, took a deep breath and realized my heart was ready to leap out of my chest – or maybe that’s what it feels like when your mother releases her possession of you.

Just then Jim innocently and ignorantly strolls back and sits down beside me. He’s got his own beer buzz going on and the girl who has by now taken the offending Mother-rouser out of the picture comes over and says to me, “Sorry about that.” To which I nod and say thanks and we all go on our merry separate ways. Jim looks at  me, “Huh? What was she sorry about?” I told him he’d missed all the excitement and would tell him later on the drive home.  His remark later, “You shoulda said something. I woulda kicked his ass.” I snickered, “Nah, woulda been more humiliating to him if I’dda done that.”

So, *ahem* the part of my mother that speaks up and says something, the part that has a spine and doesn’t take crap from people is growing inside me. As I sit back and consider the situation and add my grandmother to the equation – oh yeah. I see where this is going real fast, kids!  “You kids! Get off my lawn!!” Just kidding, she never said that – but I’m getting the gumption of two of the most amazing women in my little corner of the family tree. And, woe unto the fella that messes with my daughter! She’s only 20 and she’s been displaying this trait for years! She’da kicked that drunk dude’s ass first and asked questions later.

So, thanks Mom and Gramma for spending a bit of time with me these past couple days. I can see so  much better where you’re coming from and where I’m headed and it’s not such a bad place at all.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *