Mom: Stepmother? [Long pause] Gosh, that sounds like it’s really getting serious.
Yearning Heart: It was serious already, Mom.
Mom: Yes, I know, but I mean! [Another long pause] What are you going to do?
Yearning Heart: I don’t know! I think the ball is in his court, don’t you?
Mom: That ball has been in his court for a while, dear. You better sit and think and ask yourself whether or not he’s really going to want to marry you any time soon, if he does at all.
Yearning Heart: Well, you know, it hasn’t quite been a year, Mom. I don’t have any right to start demanding anything.
Mom: What do you want, dear?
[Long pause]
Mom: I remember how when you were little and your friends used to have pretend weddings when you were, oh, I guess about 9 or 10 years old – do you remember that? You’d always be the minister; you’d never want to be the bride.
Yearning Heart: Yes, [laughs] and I remember playing Barbies and whenever I would stage a wedding, Barbie would walk out on Ken before the ceremony and go off to be a successful single woman; I think a doctor or something.
Mom: Yes, she would end up going to Colorado Springs to shack up with that cowboy doll you had.
Yearning Heart: Yes! [laughs. Another pause.]
Mom: Do you remember watching Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman?
Yearning Heart: Ya, I do. I loved that show.
Mom: Do you remember how Dr. Quinn fell for that rancher recluse way up in the mountains?
Yearning Heart: Yes, Sully, he was cute. I liked him, in my little teenage way.
Mom: And she adopted those three kids?
Yearning Heart: Yes, I remember…
Mom: And they got married, right? and she had a baby?
Yearning Heart: [quickly] Mom, I see where this is going.
Mom: Well, I was only thinking of you, sweetie.
Yearning Heart: I’m not Jane Seymour, Mom, much less Dr. Michaela.
Mom: I know, angel, it’s just kind of odd. Eerie, really, the parallels…
Yearning Heart: It’s a totally different situation.
Mom: Are you two going to have kids?
Yearning Heart: MOM!
Mom: I’ll shut up now.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Superior Mother Jumps the Gun
I’m trying – so hard – not to get ahead of myself here. My mom doesn’t help much.
I called my mom for Mother’s Day and, after chit-chatting about gossip and news and recent local tragedies back in my hometown, I told her about my Mother’s Day card.
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1 comment:
Mom really knows how to push those buttons, doesn't she? Lead you straight into that one...
(chuckles)
I like the idea of you being Jane Seymour. It works for me.
Maybe if Jane Seymour could be surrounded by nuns singing, "How do you solve a problem like Jane Seymour?"
How about that?
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