I spend every Wednesday night at my parents house having dinner and trying to keep my dad from lifting things he’s not allowed to, like that pillow top mattress and that refrigerator. I bring Gus along to distract him because there’s nothing to help you forget about dragging trunks of old ephemera from the attic like an eight pound dog with a giant caterpillar dangling from his lips.
After dinner this past Wednesday, my mom and I left my dad and Gus to bond over whatever boys bond over, probably scars, poop jokes and farting, and took a short walk. I was nervous when she first suggested this because her tone made me think she wanted to have a private conversation and for a few seconds I worried that she was going to ask me if I was gay. Up until I came out to my parents several years ago, every private moment with my mother was muddled with this same fear and from time to time I still find myself trying to convince Janie to just tell my parents she sleeps on the carpet int he office because we’re only roommates and, NO, that is definitely not a sex toy in the bathroom sink.
I took our walk as an opportunity to talk about some things that had been bothering me lately and until that moment, I’d never realized how nice it is to have a mother you’re not afraid to open up to. I’d always been so worried about revealing too much about myself and that she’d finally see how totally gay I am that I never really talked to her about all my feelings that there are so many of. I’m sure that, for her, it’s as if this little rock she’d been staring at for 30+ years suddenly opened up and gushed with water, only that water was filled with feelings that sounds a lot like a seagull screeching and babies crying and Bill O’Reilly.
My mother is one of the best people to ask for advice, especially if that advice concerns money (stop spending it on stupid things. You do not need that life-size wicker elephant, Linsey!) and the appropriate time to provide her with grandchildren (NOW). She is level-headed and logical in nearly every area of life. So if you want an opinion from someone in our family that is not crazy or totally reckless, then you’ll want to look her up. The one important thing you should know when approaching her is this: the only time you’ll ever see the business end of her Furor Teutonicus is if and when you say anything about her family. Because she’ll cut a bitch.