My Mother
MY MOTHER
My mother hates squirrels, raccoons and all other animals she calls “varmints” and I call “furry children of God.”
My mother can flip the bird with her toes.
My mother had shoulder replacement surgery after being tasered at a cockfight. *
My mother is from Louisiana and grew up in a house with seven brothers and sisters.
She only likes “clean” movies, preferably with a lot of scenery and horses.
I once rented Monster’s Ball and watched it with my mother. She has not forgiven me.
* actually she had arthritis but same difference.
And now a loving tribute to the emotionally scarring films of my childhood she made me watch, assembled and created with the help of Rachael Waxler at White House Post:
Kathy Hepinstall's Blog 
#7 Your mother is sweet and did not kick you in the shins when you did not win a swimming event like my mother did.
I am pouring through the archives of mother atrocities to try to top that one, K.
There are few who can top the indentation in my shin from 1979, K.
Well, I will JUST be damned. Because you never keep up with stuff, that is the only picture of myself I ever sent to you, and wouldn’t have sent it, except I hated it and counted on your losing it. I’m changing my will tomorrow.
OH MY GOD IS THAT YOU MOM?
Aunt Polly rocks … A True southern Lady 😉
She found the blog Bridget! Sniffed it out like a bird dog!
Looks like well have to make another blog under Anonomyous
That’s my sassy Aunt Polly right there. I remember when we were kids, my brother asked her for some sugar, and she said “why sure, darlin'”, and then gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek. I loff her.
That sounds just like the kind of sassy thing she would say, Richard!
I love the saintly mother title. Does the saintly mother aka aunt polly remember her advise to me on smoking? Lol
I rented “Shakes the Clown” and watched it with my mother, thinking we could bond over the scene in the clown bar where the elder statesman clown says, “As soon as the camera’s off him, he’s gonna fuck that little dog.” Yeah, no.
Genius moment. Speaking of little dogs, how’s Trauma? Still with us?
Trauma endures, as do I since my mom cannot let him in or out, or clean up after him, or feed him. Also he has a goiter that comes and goes. She’d like me to call the mobile grim reaper but I won’t, as long as he’s still eating. It’s pretty sad back there.
So sorry to hear. Not to get all 2005 on you but I sent you an email.
Your mother did not make you go into a St. Vincent de Paul box to get the cars keys she accidentally dropped while making a clothes donation. Because you were little and would fit.
Although in fairness, she really just did want the car keys so we could go home and did NOT intend to set me up for a lifetime fear of abandonment.
You are too funny.
OMG I love this piece… and the film clip is priceless! Although my mom took me to rosemary’s baby at the drive inn theatre when i was about six. Then i got to see deliverance at nine. To the day she died she swore she thought rosemary’s baby was a disney movie. I doubt that…
Rosemary’s baby at six?? Did it make you morbid in your adult life?
I can top that….. my mother told me if I wanted to see Rosemary’s Baby, I had to read the book first. So I did. And gave an oral book report on it. I was 8. My teacher was not amused.
HA HA HA! great story Mel! You were always before your time.
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Hello from Boulder!