VISITING MOM

Or, why ain’t I in school?

Visiting Mom, is like going to the principle, you only get one chance to explain, then comes the punitive actions.

I ring the bell, knock on the door, and try to be visible in her front door glass. The idea being that I don’t scare her since she is 92. Trouble with the visible part is she now is only about 3 feet tall, standing on her stool! Of course it takes a while for her to come to the door, but once she does, after ten minutes, I am ready to explain.

“Oh! What a nice surprise! What do I owe the pleasure of this visit from my favorite son?” (I’m her only son.)

Or-

“Don’t just stand there, come IN! What do I owe the pleasure of this visit from my favorite son?” (I’m still her only son.)

Mom believes in explanations while she walks.

“I was just cleaning my toilets, you know you don’t want people thinking you have a dirty toilet!”

Of course Mom has the Regis Philbin show going, where he is yelling at Kelly Ripa and I realize Regis is NOT yelling, Mom has the TV on very loud!

“So, sit down, would you like a cup of coffee? Oh by the way, can you do me a favor? ”

Once the favor is done, and inspected for craftsmanship, neatness and done with the lack of proper swear words I like to use, Mom settles in with stories about people I have forgotten, never met (but she expects me to know them anyway), and any old saws she still has, we are about to get down to the reason for my visit when she says: “Well, I guess you want to get home! But that’s OK, I am still in the middle of cleaning the toilet. You know, you don’t want people thinking your mother has a dirty toilet!” (What she means is: Get the hell out of here, Henry, my boy toy is coming over soon!)