My elderly mother lives with me. She's almost 89 years old and well.....different. She's afraid of almost everything: birds, extreme weather, riding in cars, food poisoning (she's always throwing out perfectly good food), mice, bugs, spiders and the boogey man.
She's also a screamer. I hate screaming. She screams at the dogs, the daughter and when she's the least bit startled by something --which means pretty much everything-- she screams. She'll scream when riding in the car. She screams if a car, three lanes over from us, makes a lane change. I keep telling her that she's going to cause an accident, because when she screams, I tend to slam on the brakes. It does no good to tell her this, she still screams.
Ahhhhh! It's the boogey man!
A few months back, we were having an exceptionally "screamerly" week. I was working in my office when I heard her screaming from the kitchen. The only words I could make out were Brenda! x$#@%^& Jessie! Jessie is my golden retriever.
That's Jessie on the sofa. She's watching Animal Planet. I kid you not.
Anyhow, so I'm trying to get some writing done and Mom is screaming. Here's how my thought process went:
Mom: Brenda! @#$%^&* Jessie!
Brenda: What the hell is she screaming about now?
Mom: Brenda! @#$%^&* Jessie!
Brenda: Well, I'm going to ignore her.
Mom: Brenda! @#$%^&* Jessie
Brenda: Scream all you want. I'm not coming.
Mom: Brenda! @#$%^&* Jessie!
Brenda: Oh! Maybe Jessie knocked her down! (She's always afraid that Jessie is going to knock her down.)
Mom: Brenda! @#$%^&* Jessie!
Brenda: Maybe Jessie is killing Toby. (Toby is my mother's little chihuahua/Jack Russell mix. He hates Jessie, because Jessie's the alpha dog and he wants to be the alpha dog. Toby sometimes goes after Jessie and Jessie beats the tar out of him, but Toby never learns.)
Here's Toby. Don't let that innocent face fool you.
So now, I am panicking. I jump up running for the kitchen certain that I'm going to find Mom on the floor or Toby lying in a pool of blood.
We have a baby gate on the entry to the kitchen. That's to keep the four dogs out when Mom is in the kitchen. Like everything else, dogs make Mom nervous.
Just as I'm running through the entryway, my shoe lace catches on the gate. I trip and fall.
Mom: Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!
Brenda: (As I'm body surfing across the floor) Oh no! I'm going to slide head first into the refrigerator. I'll die from a head injury just like Natasha Richardson!
Luckily, my body stopped right before the refrigerator. I stand up.
Brenda: (trying to remain calm) What are you screaming about!
Mom: Jessie was trying to get that piece of chicken off of the counter.
Brenda: (screaming) I never want to hear you scream again unless the house is on fire!
The end
She's also a screamer. I hate screaming. She screams at the dogs, the daughter and when she's the least bit startled by something --which means pretty much everything-- she screams. She'll scream when riding in the car. She screams if a car, three lanes over from us, makes a lane change. I keep telling her that she's going to cause an accident, because when she screams, I tend to slam on the brakes. It does no good to tell her this, she still screams.
A few months back, we were having an exceptionally "screamerly" week. I was working in my office when I heard her screaming from the kitchen. The only words I could make out were Brenda! x$#@%^& Jessie! Jessie is my golden retriever.
Anyhow, so I'm trying to get some writing done and Mom is screaming. Here's how my thought process went:
Mom: Brenda! @#$%^&* Jessie!
Brenda: What the hell is she screaming about now?
Mom: Brenda! @#$%^&* Jessie!
Brenda: Well, I'm going to ignore her.
Mom: Brenda! @#$%^&* Jessie
Brenda: Scream all you want. I'm not coming.
Mom: Brenda! @#$%^&* Jessie!
Brenda: Oh! Maybe Jessie knocked her down! (She's always afraid that Jessie is going to knock her down.)
Mom: Brenda! @#$%^&* Jessie!
Brenda: Maybe Jessie is killing Toby. (Toby is my mother's little chihuahua/Jack Russell mix. He hates Jessie, because Jessie's the alpha dog and he wants to be the alpha dog. Toby sometimes goes after Jessie and Jessie beats the tar out of him, but Toby never learns.)
So now, I am panicking. I jump up running for the kitchen certain that I'm going to find Mom on the floor or Toby lying in a pool of blood.
We have a baby gate on the entry to the kitchen. That's to keep the four dogs out when Mom is in the kitchen. Like everything else, dogs make Mom nervous.
Just as I'm running through the entryway, my shoe lace catches on the gate. I trip and fall.
Mom: Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!
Brenda: (As I'm body surfing across the floor) Oh no! I'm going to slide head first into the refrigerator. I'll die from a head injury just like Natasha Richardson!
Luckily, my body stopped right before the refrigerator. I stand up.
Brenda: (trying to remain calm) What are you screaming about!
Mom: Jessie was trying to get that piece of chicken off of the counter.
Brenda: (screaming) I never want to hear you scream again unless the house is on fire!
The end
LOL! Brenda, you really do have a knack for writing comedy!! The thing is - I KNOW it's true stories! lol This is really funny! I can picture everything! Oh, p.s. I love the pic of Jesse watching Animal Planet! Thanks for the laugh!
ReplyDeleteCindy
Love this! You do have a great comedic sense. Enjoyed the read, though I feel your pain! :)
ReplyDeleteHello,
ReplyDeleteI visited your blog today - I saw you on 'Art, Books, Tea.' Your blog is lovely. While I was browsing, I noticed the red post....and I was hooked, as I also love the color red. Our blog is called Red Rose Alley and me and my daughters would love it if you could visit us and follow. I would enjoy coming back to visit with you. Your blog is so cheerful to me. I hope to hear from you, and have a sweet day.
~Sheri at Red Rose Alley
Thank you for visiting us at Red Rose Alley. I read this little story and my heart goes out to you and your mom. It isn't easy, I know. My mom passed away three years ago, and we all took turns taking care of her. She is in my heart every day. I know it's difficult right now, but you are not alone, my friend. Sending you a big hug, and how wonderful that your mom is 89 years old!!
ReplyDelete~Sheri at Red Rose Alley