Why You Don’t Always Answer The Phone When Your Mother Calls
“Clean your room and don’t eat after 8 p.m. and if you are going to eat after 8 p.m., don’t eat pizza or cheese fries or anything fried and how about limiting your alcohol intake while you’re at it.”
“Are you really going out in that short skirt ripped pair of jeans tank top? You won’t impress anyone looking like that, and appearances are everything. You don’t get a second chance to make a first impression. Is that the impression you really want to make?”
“You don’t call enough, and don’t tell me that you don’t have time because I know your unlimited minutes cell phone plan makes calling me and your father that much easier. Call when you’re on the treadmill, or in line ordering your triple shot skim no-foam latte, or between job interviews.”
“Why can’t you get a job? You went to college. You studied English chemistry accounting biology. You graduated near enough to the top of your class. You even did it in four years. So why can’t you get a job? When I was your age, I would have taken any job, if I needed a job. Someone has to welcome us to McDonald’s and can I take your order please. And someone has to make those triple shot skim no-foam lattes you love so much.”
“Why haven’t you accepted my Facebook friend request? If you’re not going to call, at least let me know you’re OK via your status updates.”
“Why did you accept my Facebook friend request? If I see another picture of you passed out on someone’s couch with the caption ‘How did this happen again?’ I’m going to think you need to start the program [this your mother will whisper, as if the words, said more loudly, will make your need for the program truer] and you know what happened to your Aunt Betty when she started the program.”
“Why did you get that tattoo on your neck? And who is Virginia and why do you think she wanted you to get her name tattooed on your neck?”
“No, I will not loan you money to get the name Virginia removed from your neck. You made that bed — well, you probably didn’t make that bed — and now you have lie in it.”
“You’re not coming home for Thanksgiving Christmas Rosh Hashanah? Again? I guess I didn’t need this 20-pound turkey after all.”
“What do you mean you’re gay bisexual pansexual in a polyamorous relationship? I can’t talk about any of that in our annual family newsletter. I’m going to say you’re still searching for yourself. I can just copy that from last year’s newsletter.”
“When am I going to have grandchildren?”
“Why am I a great-grandmother before my 45th birthday?”
“You know I love you, right?”