While you’re trying to maintain a positive attitude and navigate through this stress-filled life, you need to avoid anything that can bring you down. Like phone calls from my mother.
When my mother calls I brace myself for the news that someone has died. And while that might not be why she called this time, that won’t stop her from launching through a list of really horrible news. She’s scarier than Wolf Blitzer and Fox News combined.
“Did you hear? Uncle Dave fell again. This time he landed on the other wrist, so now he’s walking around with casts on both hands.… Don’t you remember? He fell off the toilet trying to get the bugs out of the light.… It’s true. I don’t even want to know how he’s wiping his butt, but you can bet it’s Aunt Carol’s job now.…
“Did you hear about Chris? Her dog has post-traumatic stress disorder. Seems that he was playing in the yard and he sat on a hornet’s nest. She saw him through the window running around like crazy and thought he was playing, but he was getting the bejesus stung out of him. Well, she took him to the vet and everything was fine, but now he won’t go in the yard. You know Chris and how she is with that dog. She treats the thing better than I treat your father. Well, now she’s taking the dog to a therapist. Can you believe that? Therapy for a dog? How the hell does that work? Does the dog lie on a couch and tell secrets about his mother? It’s all too much.”
At this point I’m starting to look through my liquor cabinet.
“Remember when I told you that Carrie was acting funny at Easter?… You don’t? Oh yes, you do, don’t you remember everyone thought she was cheating on Kevin because she got a new haircut and joined a gym?… Well, yes, it does, why else would someone do something like that after they’ve been married for twelve years? You don’t all of a sudden decide to look good for no reason.… Oh, really, Mr. Wiseguy, well, guess what? Turns out she’s been having an affair with her personal trainer for a year and a half. That’s right. I’m always telling your father, those personal trainers are nothing but gigolos. What middle-aged woman needs a personal trainer? What sporting event is she preparing for? I’ll tell you what. The ‘roll in the sack when your husband is out of town’ event. You don’t get all sweaty in your yoga pants with a man who isn’t your husband unless you’re looking for trouble. So anyway, now they’re getting the divorce I always thought they’d get.…
“Speaking of divorce, did I tell you about your father? He’s still with me and refuses to leave. Can you believe the nerve of that man? I’ve tried everything to get him to go. I stopped doing his laundry, I’ve stopped feeding him, and he’s still sitting over there on the couch like he’s the king of Siam. He won’t take his medications anymore, not that they ever made a difference. Who cares how high his cholesterol is anyway?
“What he really needs is a pill to make him more handsome. Something that will tighten up some of those chins of his.”
Now I’m reaching for a bigger glass.
“Are you coming for Thanksgiving?… I don’t care that it’s summer, we have to plan these things or they don’t happen. I’m thinking of having Thanksgiving this year, but I have to be honest, I don’t think I can do any of the cooking.… Well, who else is going to have it? We can’t go to your sister’s house, they’re under construction again. And you know Mark; he’s the champ of starting a project and never finishing it. The poor girl hasn’t had a proper roof over her bedroom in two years. He ripped the thing off so he could put in a sunlight. Well, they have real sunlight now, boy. No, we can’t have Thanksgiving there or the crows will be coming through the hole in the roof and flying off with the turkey.… What do you mean? Why wouldn’t a crow eat a turkey? Because it’s a bird? That’s ridiculous. Everybody loves turkey.
“No, we’ll have it at my house and that’s that. Everyone can bring something, but not you, of course, Mr. Bigshot who will probably be staying in a hotel because he doesn’t love his mother enough to sleep in a twin bed in the guest room.… It is not an attic, it’s the top floor.”
Now I’ve laid the phone on the counter, started to make a margarita in a blender, and can still hear her from across the room.
“Did you hear what happened to Uncle Bill? He stayed in a roadside motel so he could save an extra five dollars and he was attacked by bedbugs. They ate the skin off both of his legs from the knee down and now he has to walk around with pantyhose on like a drag queen. Aunt Laurie wouldn’t let him back in the house because she didn’t want to be infested, so he’s sleeping in the garage on an old army cot with baseball gloves on his hands like a baby with fingernails so he won’t scratch himself all up. Can you picture that? That’s got to be some sight. Anyway, you’ll see them at Thanksgiving.…
“So, everyone will bring something. We’ll have a nice time. And if your father is still living here, maybe he can pick up a turkey at the Stop and Shop.… Are you there?…
“Hello? I can hear you breathing. Why don’t you call me more often?”