Thursday, November 11, 2004

let me preface this post by saying that i have some mother issues - my mom and i don't have one of those... what are they called? oh, right, normal relationships- we interact more like distant relatives twice removed (which, for the most part, is fine by me, she's kind of a whack job)

since my mother moved to arizona 3 years ago, my family and i have been forced to endure thanksgiving and christmas dinners at her home with her, my stepdad (whom i get along with very well) and my fed-ex-driving stepsister and her... lifepartner (who, because i'm a "breeder" treat my husband, child and i like non-entities) - i know, it sounds like the makings of a WB sitcom, doesn't it?

so last sunday, my mom calls me to make sure that we'll be attending the suaree (sorry, wasn't aware that i had to r.s.v.p. for thanksgiving) and she says "i think it would be nice if you brought something this year"

i took a little offense to her tone because i offer.

i offer every year.

every year i say "what can i bring?" and every year she says "you don't need to bring anything, i've got the whole meal taken care of" (this isn't because she spends a week preparing the meal, my mom, who is retired and has all the free time in the world, orders a thanksgiving meal from albertson's and picks it up the night before ) but every year i still bring flowers or a little plant, at least.

"absolutely," i said. "what would you like me to bring? appetizer? dessert? homemade truffles?" i couldn't help but be a little excited, i'm constantly seeking my mom's approval (i'm sure it has something to do with being the middle child and allegedly never being as smart or as good as my older brother or younger sister - and the fact that my mom's mantra for me has always been "everything you touch turns to shit")

"if you could just bring some cheese, that would be fine," she says. "we can cut it up and i've got crackers."

"cheese?" i ask incredulously. i can cook. i love to cook - and i'm good at cooking - i can make an olive dip that's so good you'll skip dinner, i make cheesecakes so yummy you'll forget about pumpkin pie, and did i mention the truffles? homemade truffles, okay?

"yeah, that would be nice."

"mom, i know how to cook, i think i can manage something a little better than a block of colby"

"well, don't go out of your way..." she begins.

how's the weather up there on the crucifix? i think to myself.

"i just wanted you to bring something so that i can point out to your stepsister that you and your family brought something..."

oh. my. crap. why can't she just ask me to bring something to contribute to the meal? why does it have to be an in-your-face to my step-lesbian?

okay, i'm done with my bitching - there's my therapy for the day - and, in case you're still reading - here's a funny my-mom story from last christmas:

christmas day, my mom tells my son that santa visited her house and left some presents for him. he was 4 years old at the time and got all excited - he runs over to the small pile of presents and grabs the first box, ripping off the wrapping paper to reveal... a 6 pack of sunmaid raisins... yes, a 6 pack of sunmaid raisins - let me just state for the record that neither myself, nor anyone i've ever known (especially my son, the pickiest of the picky eaters) have expressed a fondness for chewy, dried grapes - seriously, ew.

without skipping a beat, my son says, dryly "yippee... raisins" and as he's reaching for the next package, he mumbles "i hope it's not raisins" - reason number 2,367,974 why i adore my child, he understands when and how to use sarcasm