Category Archives: mother’s day

Her Mom Probably Embarrassed HER, Too

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Yesterday on the way into work, the radio station was asking for embarrassing mom stories and I immediately thought of…oh…one hundred million of them. Seriously. There are so many I couldn’t even narrow it down. I’m sure we all have them and I’m sure our kids will have them, too. Of course, in my case, I sort of get double, since my mom has an identical twin that I am really close to. And since they are together so much: Embarrassing times two.

If I had called in to try and win a prize, I would have been tongue tied trying to decide which one is best – like maybe the time my mom & aunt decided to dance (or actually “dance”) at one of my birthday parties, thought it would be a good idea to finish the big “dance” with a dip, so they yelled out “Dip!” and then both dipped. And fell into the TV. Yeah, that was fun. At least they didn’t fall into my Shaun Cassidy cake (I had him on my cake several years in a row. Shut up). Good times. (You know, now that I am thinking about it, that one wasn’t actually Aunt Twin, but my Aunt Cee, and since she reads this, I probably shouldn’t be telling you about it, but – and I hope you are reading this Cee – TOUGH SHIT! Because even though I love you very much, I still feel the pain and trauma of you de-pantsing me in front of Old Joe and sitting on me and doing that gross spit thing, and let’s not forget the time you locked me out of the house IN THE SNOW! WITHOUT SHOES! And I had to walk a whole block in the snow to get my mom and Gram to come home and fix your ass SO THERE! And also – after you left me pantsless behind the couch while Old Joe was visiting and you took off? He used to give me money! I WIN!!!!)
Ahem

Where was I? Oh yeah – the embarrassing mom stories. There are many, many more. The fact that my mom and Aunt Twin seem to think that if they don’t move their lips when they talk that no one can hear them makes for many, MANY ways to embarrass me. Like when the immigrant cab driver was driving us around Toronto and they were “whispering” about how they thought he was cheating us because “they say” that the cab drivers will do that and even worse, some will abandon you in a bad part of town and make you pay them to get you out, blahblahblah UglyAmericanCakes. Or the loud search for a non-Portuguese cab driver because one person they knew met a Portuguese man and he used her to get into the country (thus all Portuguese men are guilty of this). Not that Portuguese cab drivers are easy to spot or anything.

Or the numerous times she drove me to school in her pajamas (which in the grand scheme of things is not so bad, but when you are 15? Kill me!)

Or the time my we went to the pool and my mom mentioned that she hated walking past the front row of women in lounge chairs because she always felt like they were looking at her and judging her, and Aunt Twin said, “Leave it to me” and proceeded to make a GIANT ASS of herself as we walked by – presumably to make the focus off my mom, but OH! MY! GOD! I wanted to DIE!!

Or the time when my mom got mad at me for something stupid and then my Aunt Cee got mad at her for getting mad at me and then my Nana got upset because everyone was mad. And then my mom was chasing me, so I ran out of the house and up the street to the car (I don’t know – did I think I was going to drive away? I was 12 or 13.), and Cee was chasing her, and Nana was chasing us all. I jumped in the car and my mom jumped in after me and grabbed me by the hair (don’t get all crazy with the abuse claims here – anyone with a teen can relate to at least wanting to pull their hair). So Cee opened the door and grabbed my mom by the hair. And then my mom let go of me and grabbed Cee’s hair and they fell out of the floor onto the street between the car and the curb and rolled around, both refusing to let go of each other’s hair and my Nana was doing a Fred Sanford to get them to stop and I was sinking down in my seat praying no one would see this. And then the next day in school, not one, but TWO people told me they saw me and my aunt and my mom and my great grandma running down the street and when I tried to say they were crazy, they proceeded to describe the entire scene in front of the entire lunch table and then I died of embarrassment. The End.

(I feel the need to say that Cee is appearing in these stories a great deal. Cee – consider yourself ON NOTICE!)

But one of my favorites (??) was the time my Gram was watching me and my cousin Cheryl. I was eight and she was two. We ordered pizza with mushrooms, since it was our favorite topping. We got it from a brand new pizza place called Pizza Shack. In those days, all the pizza shops used canned mushrooms, but Pizza Shack used fresh ones. And if you’ve ever had fresh mushrooms on a pizza, you know they aren’t the prettiest things. Anyway, the pizza was good and we ate most of it. And then my mom and Aunt Twin came home. They took one look at those unpretty mushrooms and decided then and there that Pizza Shack was trying to kill us with spoiled, poisoned mushrooms. My mom called Pizza Shack and ranted at them about the spoiled, poison mushrooms. And though they tried to assure her that their mushrooms were perfectly normal, she was having NONE OF IT.

They were freaking out, crying and saying incoherent things about poison and hospitals and stomach pumping. I heard those words and decided that I would rather die of poisoning than experience that. So I told them I didn’t eat any mushrooms that night – I picked them all off. Somehow they believed me, despite the fact that I LOVE mushrooms, and the fact that there was no evidence of picked-off mushrooms on the plates. They looked at Gram next, but she’s a tough bird and told them to shove it (actually, I think her words were something like “you two are crazy and the mushrooms were fine and I’m watching my show and not going to any damned hospital so shove it up your ass, I need a drink and a cigarette!”). All that was left was poor Cheryl, who – at two – was too young to know what was coming and escape the crazy. The poor thing got packed up into the car and dragged to the hospital, where they had no choice but to believe that she had eaten spoiled, poisoned mushrooms and treated her with a nice big dose of ipecac.

Although I felt bad for her, I was glad I missed that torture. What I didn’t know was that I was in for an even more delightful treat. As we left Gram’s house to head home, my mom grabbed what was left of the pizza. I didn’t understand why, since she was so sure it was poison, but I was hoping maybe I could sneak another piece when we got home. Unfortunately, my mom had other plans. She drove to Pizza Shack. And while I sat in the car under the lights (where I thought everyone in the entire world could see me), my mom proceeded to stand on the front steps of Pizza Shack and announce to the gathered patrons that Pizza Shack served SPOILED POISON MUSHROOMS!! Then she dumped the remaining pizza on the steps and – Good Lord – jumped up and down all over them. Then she realized she couldn’t see me (since I was ducking down in my seat so no one would see me) and started yelling “Gina? GINA!?!” thus killing any chance I had of remaining anonymous.

Looking back I can laugh, of course. But that doesn’t mean I’m not doing my best to make up for it by embarrassing my own kids. It’s the circle of life, people.

You Guys Are AWESOME!

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I have the best friends in the world, even though I have never even met some of you. Within minutes of letting my Twitter and Plurk pals, I had an entire group of amazing people rally around me and take steps to stop the blog thief. And it worked. It really made my shitty morning turn into a pretty good day. I hope I never have to do the same for you guys (because I hope it never happens to you), but I will in a minute, if needed.

Anyway, I figured I get something else up here, so I wouldn’t have all that ugly right on the main page…

For Mother’s Day, we kept up our yearly tradition of heading to Seven Springs for brunch, then visiting a small animal park afterward. On the way there, we got off the exit and were waiting to make a left turn onto the road to take us there. And then some idiot in a Range Rover pulls up beside us on the right lane and proceeds to try and make a left turn ahead of us. I may have possibly used the words douchebag and asshole in front of my kids. On Mother’s Day. Mother. Of. The. Year.

So then we get to the resort and settle in to wait for a table. Luckily, we didn’t have to wait long. We weren’t in the main room, but we liked it that way, since it meant no one would be walking past and bumping us on their way to the buffet. The big thing on this buffet is the crab legs. I mean – there’s a lot of other good stuff, too, but I can eat potatoes and chicken and salad at home. I want the crab. We got our food and sat back down and our waitress stopped by to ask if we needed anything and I asked her if we could get some shell crackers for the crab. She said no. “Excuse me?” “Sorry, we don’t have any?” “You don’t have ANY?” “No – they took them to the conference center.” “Seriously? There are NO crackers in this entire place?” “Sorry.” “You’re telling me that today – during the Mother’s Day brunch that people come to from far and wide specifically for the crab legs, that you have no shell crackers??” “ Yeah, sorry.”

WTF? Mr b said he saw other people with them, so he ended up asking another waitress to get us some and she said sure. Unfortunately, our waitress heard him and piped up that they didn’t have any. But a couple of minutes later she came out with a pair, going on and on about how she found a pair and washed them for me. Hopefully not in the toilet.

In the midst of this drama, the host tried to seat a large party at a nearby table and we heard the guy raising his voice about how he didn’t want that table, he wanted a table in the main room. He wanted a window seat, dammit! They explained to him that 1) that the round window tables couldn’t accommodate his large party, and 2) if he wanted a table in the other room, he would have to wait a short while. But no, he wanted a table in the other room, not this table, and he wanted a window seat and he wanted it NOW. And he expected them to make people leave so he could have it. The answer of course was still no. I turned around at this point and what do you know, it was old Range Rover douchebag asshole. HA!

We went to the animal park next and saw some groovy critters, including this guy, who I look forward to seeing every year:

We also saw lots of goats, but NOT ONE of them fainted when I chased them. Goat FAIL.

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Monday, I was driving home from work and I came to a stop sign. The women across from me waved me on, and then immediately gunned it right for me. At first, I thought maybe she was one of those insurance scammers who crate accidents, but then I figured it she were, she would have been more successful in the hitting me department, so now I think she was just an asshole. About two blocks later, I saw a guy wearing a baby

in a front carrier. Awww, right? Yeah, not so much. He was standing on a ladder. On a hill. On tiptoe. While reaching to trim the very top of his hedges with huge electric trimmers. It’s nice that there’s always someone out there who makes me feel like a parenting success.

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Finally, the girl had her preschool graduation yesterday. She wanted curls which I knew wouldn’t last so I made sure to take a bunch of photos before they fell out. And I know I am biased, but she looked beautiful.

Afterward, we celebrated with a girly girl day. We went to tea, then came home and made perfume and flowery crafts. Then we lay in the hammock and relaxed. It was a good day.

See how fast the curls fell?