With every year that passes, it seems I owe my mother yet another apology for doing or saying something that I, in the superior wisdom of my youth,—i.e., naiveté—once vowed I would never, ever do or say. So, yeah, I’ve been eating my words for a good 25 years now. And to add insult to injury, recent photos suggest they have been high fat, high sugar words at that.
Back in the day, I swore
1) I would never wear any outfit past its trendiness expiration date . . . until I got my first car and found out how much snow tires cost.
2) I would never leave the house looking like that . . . until I stayed up all night with a feverish baby and went to work wearing one brown shoe and one black one..
3) I would never use candy to bribe a child into compliance . . . until I was stuck in a mile-long check-out line with a melting down toddler.
4) I would never lose my patience and screech ridiculous, unenforceable threats, such as grounding a child to her grave and beyond . . . until I had a teenager.
Well, you get the idea. Lots of high calorie words building up on my hips over the years. But after the stunt I pulled this morning, I’m going to be eating words roughly the caloric equivalent of a Boston cream pie. Until today, my mother’s famous “drive-by incident of 1971” remained the high water mark for menopausal memory lapses in our family. That day, my 54-year-old mother was supposed to drive my friend and me to a basketball game at the junior high. My mom went out to the garage to pull the car around while my friend and I stood at the end of the sidewalk, waiting for her. Once in the car, my mother headed our way, but instead of stopping, she blithely drove right past us and disappeared into the night. My friend began to panic, but I calmly assured her that this sort of thing had happened before and that my mom would be back . . . sooner or later. I made no promises about making the opening tip off.
As my mom told it, once she hit the middle of town, she put her finger to her cheek and wondered aloud where she was going and why. With a little mental backtracking, she eventually remembered her passengers and returned for us. Oh, how we all howled about that for years, teasing her mercilessly every time she got behind the wheel and asking with exaggerated concern whether she’d forgotten anything—or anyone.
And then this morning happened to me. I got in my car to run some routines errands, stopping first at the drive-thru dry cleaners that I’ve been going to for ten years. I pulled up and Mr. Lee, the genial owner, came out to greet me as he does each time. We chatted a bit about holiday madness as he opened the back door to retrieve my load. Suddenly, he fell silent. Then, genuinely confused, he asked, “What do you want me to do with this?”
“Oh, just the usual light starch,” I replied, a bit confused myself.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said, laughing.
I turned around to see what the problem was. There on my back seat, just as pleased as punch, sat my dog Harper—and not one stitch of laundry. The light bulb went on and I remembered that I was actually on my way to the veterinarian this morning when my brain apparently went on auto-pilot and I ended up at the dry cleaners instead. (In my defense, they do advertise themselves as “fur specialists.”) Mr. Lee and I had a good laugh and then I drove off in the direction of the vet’s office, just shaking my head.
Thus, the drive-thru incident of 2015 has now entered the annals of Menopausal Moments. My mom has been gone nearly two years, yet I’m still learning from—and apologizing to—her regularly. Looking down on me this morning, I’m sure she had a good laugh. Surely, even in heaven, vindication must still be sweet. As for me, I went home, sat down and cut myself a big slice of humble pie. I don’t suppose that’s ever anyone’s favorite dish, but I must say, the Boston cream isn’t too bad. Next time you have to eat your words, you might want to give it a try.
Sorry again, Mom, and you were right about almost everything.
Oh, Lee, this is too funny–in a humbling sort of way! Been there, done that a number of times…every now and then I’m caught up short, suddenly aware that I’m saying or doing something just like my mother (like not getting out of my PJs all day). Thanks for this Friday morning chuckle and dose of self-recognition!
It’s a little frightening how much we follow in their footsteps. My only consolation is anticipating the day when my daughter becomes me–and getting to see her horrified expression when it happens! Thanks for stopping by, Roxanne. P.S. I’m in my pajamas and the HVAC guys are due any minute!
I am experiencing that at least weekly. Sorry Mum!
I know, Liz! I just hope my daughter has the same awakening some day. What a treat that would be for me–See, I TOLD you clogs were making a comeback! 😉
Oh man, that’s funny! More humble pie for you! It’s a nice reminder to me to call my mom today and tell her I appreciate her so much. Great post!
Thanks, Mirtha! My poor dog had a moment of panic when he thought he was going to be cleaned and pressed for the holidays!
OMG, this is such an awesome post, Lee! I am LOL-ing as I type!
Thanks, Helene! And truth be told, I am this distracted nearly every day, it seems. I think I actually make my mom look good by comparison!
Okay, Lee…far be it from me (NOT)…but why is your blog feed showing comments at 351pm…I know it’s before noon where you and I are. Oh never mind.. I’ll just drive through the dry cleaners. RIGHT?? Lol
I know! The time thing got all messed up and I can’t figure out why or how to fix it! Go to the cleaners and pick up my dog, will ya?
Wow! When I think I am losing my mind with memory glitches, I’ll remember this story. For certain. THANK you! xox
Thanks, Carol. This was actually one of my milder episodes–I’ve just been too embarrassed to tell them all. And I didn’t want to give my mother the satisfaction, wherever she is! 😉
This is a great story, Lee. Funny and sweet. I spent so many years laughing at my Mom’s escapades. She was good natured about it….most of the time. But sometimes it got under her skin, and she let me know she’d had enough. Now I see her in me and laugh at myself, knowing that a part of her still lives on in my goofy actions. It could be worse. You could be wearing the pie on your face! xoxo
I think so much the same thing. My mother was a really good sport about the teasing, but every now and then, she’d push back. As my estrogen level has dropped, my apology index has risen! I get it now, I really get it, mom. 😉
So funny, Lee! My mother died two months ago, and I find myself talking to her… and apologizing frequently. Part of me thinks that at least for a little while, she’s my guardian angel. Brenda
Hi, Brenda,
I’m so sorry you lost your mom.It’s a loss unlike any other for a daughter.I KNOW she’s your watching out for you!Sending you a big hug. XOX
My son is in his mid 20’s and I see him finally starting to “get it”….I laughed so much; I wish I could have known my Mom as an adult. I once found a picture of my Mom taken when she was about 7 and she looked exactly like I did at her age! She died when I was 12; the one thing I could wish is that I would have been able to know her as an adult and not just as a child and pre-teen.
Hi, Alana,
I’m so sorry you didn’t have your mom for very long. I can imagine how hard it was to be a teenager and young married woman and then a mom yourself without her–so many moments that we just assume our moms will be part of.On the plus side, at least your son is starting to “get it”–he has no idea how much more “learning” is headed his way in years to come.:-) Thanks so much for writing.
Love this Lee!! I can relate as well!! I had a good laugh! Your mom’s story is priceless…
Hi, Vilma! Looking back, I can’t believe what a good sport my mom was. She survived three daughters’ relentless verbal eye rolling and never really blasted us–as she should have! Thanks for stopping by! XO
Oh Lee! Just what I needed to read! You are the best. 😊
Thanks, Miki! It’s scary how closely I’m following in her footsteps…and how quickly I’m outdoing her!
This is great! I remember how we used to laugh at Mom and the funny things (we thought) she did and said. And, yes, she let us know when we went a little too far. Now my kids (and grandchildren) make fun of me in the same way. What goes around does come around!!
And around and around again, huh? I’ll bet we all thought we’d be so different from our moms…but we’re not! 😉 I can’t wait until my daughter starts following in my off-course footsteps. I’ll be right there to dish it out to her. Thanks for writing, Noreen!
At least you remembered the vet appointment. I’ve gone out resolutely to go to an appt, had a wonderful day shopping only to remember the app at 3 am when I get up for the umteenth time. When I was teaching, my co-teacher asked ” when was the 1776 Declaration of Independance written?”. The students looked at her as if it was a trick. When no one answered she asked again. I repeated the question back to her. Then the light bulb flashed and she looked and me and laughed… “menopause, I have no mind”
Hi, Beth,
OMG, I’ve done that too–I’ve been piddling around in my house like I had nothing to do and gotten the call from the dentist or hair salon, asking if I was coming. And it’s always AFTER I’ve confirmed the appointment and told other people I had an appointment that day. I just kind of zone out. Like you, I used to teach, so I say we blame the kids for destroying our brains!
Just a light starch for the pooch – I laughed out loud! Yep, for those of us in Club 50, we’ve all been there. Twice now I’ve walked into the men’s bathroom and then looked at the guys like THEY had made the mistake!
Exactly! My poor Harper could always do with an extra bath, but I think pressing might have done him in! 🙂 I can’t believe you said that about the men’s room–there is a little old Vietnamese man who is probably still shaking from the shock I gave him when I walked into the men’s room in Wal-mart! Thanks so much for stopping by…and relating!
Loved this post. Sorry for the loss of your mom. My mom passed away a few years ago and I am reminded of her advice on a daily basis, especially during the holidays.
Thanks for your kind words, Judy. We keep hearing their words in our heads the rest of our lives, I think! Happy holidays to you and your family. 🙂
It was the cake that drew me, and then, when I read the post, even though it’s a few months old, I had to stop and catch my breath, I was laughing so hard. Thank you for making me feel less crazy with age-related memory problems –I never did anything like that. Well, not YET, anyway!
Your day is coming, missy. 😉 Yes, I even shocked myself with this one. It’s official–I have become my mother. Thanks for stopping by, Carol!
Haha – those are both hilarious! I bet Harper would have preferred the dry cleaner to the vets! I realised with horror that I also swore I would never do those four things at the beginning, & am working my way through them!
I think so too–except they ply him with so many biscuits at the vet, he gains wait during the visit! Isn’t it sobering the first time you open your mouth and out pops your mom? i don’t think it’s going to get better either!