Tuesday, May 31, 2011

RULES MY MOTHER TAUGHT ME (she never mentioned Richard Armitage though)

Ok, we come into this world as formless blobs (except for this crowd pictured here) with nothing much to recommend us but our mother's love and our father's good name.  (As an aside I must say that when born I was actually quite adorable.  My mother did mention, however, that I had a faint covering of hair over my face - yes, hair.  Black hair which seemed to fall off during the hours after my birth. A bit like Colin here.  For the first few hours of my life my name was Edgar. This is true, I kid you not.  Then there was my brother.  My brother was born with a little tail, the end of his spine evidently had continued growing for a quarter of an inch but the doctors cut it off right away.  Still, that wasn't as bad as having HAIR all over your damn face.  We were like a petting zoo.  So precious. When my mother would get angry at my dad she would announce that the reason for our little idiosyncracies of birth was that my father was Swedish.)

Our first several years were completely dependent upon them, they taught us by word and deed, led by example.  We were lucky in that both of our parents were fairly normal, honest and hardworking.  Neither had any experience of college so they kind of blew that for me to tell you the truth.  I had to go back as an adult to Loyola weekend college to get my degree.  I finally figured out what counselors were for in my early thirties, but I digress...

LESSONS OF A LIFETIME from my mother's lips to God's ears
1.  A no brainer.  Always, always wear clean underwear when you leave the house.  In the house it's pretty much every woman for herself, raggedly cotton with holes and loose elastic.  You go for a trip you whip out the good stuff.  My mother would never live long enough to see thongs become the rage - in fact, even the thought I owned one of those babies would have killed the poor woman.  Thongs look like hell on me anyway, like a Sumo wrestler in a jock strap, so I've avoided them for most of my life.

2.   Always, always, ALWAYS put toilet paper on a public toilet seat before you sit down.  This one is a constant source of wonder to my husband who would sit on a nuclear wastedump if he had to go outside the house.  I on the other hand have been known to hop around moaning and screaming as I unwrap the paper from the roll, then fold each length in half and then place it strategically in patches across the seat until the entire area is covered completely.  Then, and only then, do I actually sit and sometimes I STILL CAN FEEL MOISTURE.  God I hate that!  What the hell is it with some women - wipe the seat if you're a hoverer would you!  Please!  I can take care of the rest with my toilet paper upholstery job, just do your part and leave me a dry surface on which to work.  You never know who's been in there before you - hookers, lepers, Lady Gaga - could be anyone.  Creepy.  Whenever I think of this I remember that movie with Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant - Two Weeks Notice.  Sandra does the merde dance when she finds herself in a stranger's RV toilet and she has to cover the entire surface before she can relieve herself.  I laughed myself silly at that scene.  My mother would have loved Sandra Bullock.

3.   Never, never, never throw away your mail in a strange place.  You mail has your ADDRESS on it.  There are roaming groups of homeless homicidal maniacs who check the trash of Boston Market just to get their hands on addresses.  Then they come to your home and poop on your driveway.  Or they kill you.  Either way it's really bad.  This rule came to mind today when we got to Boston Market and Rich wanted to throw out an envelope that my newest Carla Kelly book came in.  I stopped him, grabbed his wrist.  "It has our home address on it.  Don't be insane, man."  He said, "All of our mail has our home address on it."  There is no reasoning with this guy.  Then he said, "You throw away envelopes at home all the time - junk mail, envelopes from bills...don't you?"  He lives in another world from me entirely.  We'll never see eye to eye on this. 

Well, enough of these, I'll think of more later.  Right now it's time for my boys to come out and play...Flowers for a Ghost - Pride and Prejudice and North and South

17 comments:

Karen V. Wasylowski said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
LucyParker said...

"Because I'm your mother, that's why!" I heard it as a child and have said it as a parent. It initiates eye-rolling in every generation. But then one day I overheard my son quote me on something fabulous that I had advised. He'd been listening after all!

So, Karen, your mother loved you just as you were, didn't sell you to the freak show, kept you around, kept working on you until you became the quality person you are today. Her mission was fulfilled when you began quoting her.

I'm telling both you and the mister that identifying mail should be shredded, not tossed. Makes it harder for the mass murderers to find you.

Teresa Thomas Bohannon said...

If you mother were still alive, she would warn you about the axe murderers on the internet...trust me, I know. Myy mother does it all the time. :)

LucyParker said...

Karen, I know you already know this but it's great news that MM finally has a new job in Joe Wright's "Anna Kareninnnnnaaa" I forget how to spell it, but anyway it looks like MM will be leaving the house soon. I knew you'd be happy. Your happiness = my happiness. :D

Karen V. Wasylowski said...

Yes I just heard and am very pleased. I worked endless hours to get him this part! Do I get any money? No. Just the satisfaction of getting him out of the house is enough for me.

LucyParker said...

Let's see what they do with his hair in this one! I say let KH stay home with the kids for a while. She's like that Lazy Maizy (again, whatever her name) in that Dr. Suess book where Horton gets to sit on the nest while Maizy flits about.

Anyway, if he's back in breeches, he'll have to do something about his knee-handles.

Misty said...

Hahaha!

And Mmmmmm, Richard Armitage...

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