Things That Mom Did That Cracked Me Up

My mother was a lady from her head to the soles of her shoes. She dressed beautifully, did her makeup perfectly, and was kind, generous and funny. Everyone who knew her loved her. She also had a wicked sense of humor, and a naughty side as well; read on.

One evening she and Dad went out to a fine restaurant for dinner. They were enjoying their drinks when two business men and a business woman sat down at a table near them. According to Mom, the woman had a “grating” voice and laughed like a donkey. Plus, she was quite loud, and soon Mom began shooting her dirty looks.

Mom got more and more perturbed, and even Dad said that the woman was a real loud mouth. They finished their meal and asked for a check, and Mom noticed that the woman and the two men got up from their table to greet some of their co-workers. Mom told Dad that she needed to use the ladies room, and on her way there she noticed that the loud woman’s leather briefcase was on the floor. Mom walked right over to it and walked on it, scraping her shoes on it all the way!

When I heard this, I was horrified and asked her what in the world made her do that. (please note that I was laughing inside). Mom said, “well, she deserved it; she was loud and obnoxious and she ruined my evening!” In her book, what she did was sheer justice.

Another time, Mom was out shopping, and had just turned her directional on to park. A young couple came the other way and drove right into the spot Mom was going to park in. (Yes, I know—just like that lady in the book, “Fried Green Tomatoes,” where she tried to park and a teenager took her spot and laughed at her.)

Of course, Mom being Mom, was understandably angered about this. She found another place to park, but was not happy about someone taking her space. After the occupants left the car, Mom got out her car keys and walked beside the car and keyed the driver’s door! When I heard that, I said, “Mom, there are cameras everywhere these days! You could have been arrested for that!”

Mom just shrugged her shoulders and said, “well, number one, I didn’t get caught, and number two, that’s what they get for taking my spot!”

And then there was the bank incident. For years, Mom’s and Dad’s local bank allowed Dad to put one of his framed photographs on an easel each week. It spruced up the bank, and got Dad some good business.

One year Mom showed up with one of Dad’s framed photographs as usual. She was setting up the easel when one of the high muckety-mucks at the bank told her that they no longer wanted Dad’s photographs in their bank; he said it took up too much room.

Mom thought that was a pretty flimsy excuse, and let the man have it with both barrels. The man wouldn’t back down, so Mom took the photograph and the easel home. She announced to Dad that they were going to take out their money out of that bank and move it over to another local bank. Wisely, Dad let her go; he always did when Mom had blood in her eye.

Well, the whole process took nearly a day. Mom had to have been exhausted by it all, but Mom being Mom just wouldn’t let it go. It took her years to tell me that she could have thought it through a bit better, but that’s my Mom for you.

All these things have turned into funny and sweet memories for me. Even Dad, who loved her beyong measure, used to shake his head and smile, and say, ‘your mother is something else!’

How right he was.


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