03 February 2018
Story #897
R. Linda:
While we are on the subject of me mother, here be a blast from the past story-wise that be.
We discussed the "borrowing" of me new coat over tea yesterday afternoon (my day off), and with Tonya at work, we openly and, at times, loudly expounded on the coat living for three days at Ben's house (Ben being Mam's non-boyfriend).
"I noticed when he came to pick you up, and before me, coat figured in the equation," I began, but she cut me off.
"Ock! Ar' ye goona start oop on dat agin?" She asked, getting very Irish in her speech.
"Why yes, I am," I replied, holding a finger up for silence.
"I noticed," I got that far before she cut me off again.
"Ye goo on and on like yer beatin' on a dead cow ye ar'."
"Would you stop for just a minute? I be trying to tell you an observation on Ben I have."
She sat quietly, not trusting I wouldn't go back to the coat fiasco.
"I noticed that Ben wore a button-down shirt that was buttoned." I sat smugly, looking at her and biting her lip.
"Wot ye gittin' at Gabriel? Spit it out, would ya."
"Just that he knew the buttons on his collar needed to be buttoned, and they were, unlike someone who went nearly two years oblivious to the fact one side of his collar was buttoned and the other was not."
"I see where yer gooin' wit dis."
"Yup, YOU were the culprit for what two years was it? That YOU would button one side of Da's shirt and not the other, and HE, not an observant man, went off to work every day with the one side buttoned look."
"Well, I wuz tryin' ta taach 'em a lesson, cor it took long enuff!"
"Yes, it did. I can still remember the day he finally discovered the truth. He came home red in the face that his boss's secretary had taken him aside and pointed out the discrepancy of his attire."
"Ooh, he wuz nun too happy he wuzn't."
"Nope, he wasn't. She had asked him how he managed to thread his tie through his collar, buttoning one side and forgetting the other. Was it a fashion statement, she wondered?" I laughed at the memory, and she looked very smug with herself.
"If I didn't button his collar, he'd haf both sides unfastened," she said as if on a witness stand defending her bad self.
"Makes me wonder what else you are capable of doing, and we are not aware of the private japes going on in that steel trap, mind of yours."
She narrowed her eyes at me, which was a surefire indication she was up to no good.
"Ah, see there!" I said, pointing at her.
"Wot?" She was acting all innocent like she had no clue what I was going on about.
"So what are you up to? Mixing cat food in with the hamburger meat? Making Bailey's whiskey cake when we are all at work and eating it yourself? " I threw those out just to get her attention. Then I hit her with the real magic acts going on. "Washing me socks with the towels so static cling makes for a fashion statement of me own, going to work with the bottoms of me trousers stuck to me ankles? Switching the two pictures in the hallway weekly, so we all think we are losing our minds? All that be you, I suspect." I said, watching her shoulders shake with mirth. Yes, she thinks all that gaslight treatment be funny. "If you aren't careful, I'll have you committed."
"Luck dey'd believe YOU when ye tell dem all dat an' dey loook at me all sweet and elderly." She quipped.
"Um, hum."
"An' wit Ben, it wuz a new shirt, obviously, so it was buttoned before he poot it on." She threw at me, getting up and ending the conversation.
She left me wondering what's next on her gaslight agenda. I tell ya, the socks thing has me going. Every morning for a week, the static cling they produce clamps me trousers to them like I be in a wind storm. For the life of me, I can't release the trousers from the socks, so I look like God knows what. All because SHE thinks it is funny.
In addition, we have two photographs of Ireland hanging on the wall as you come down the staircase. She made a big deal that the Cliffs of Moher should be at the upper part of the wall and Kilkenny Castle on the lower. But just this morning, the pictures were reversed. Yesterday, they were like they originally were hung, but weekly they switch. I'm not doing that; Tonya isn't doing that, and the kiddos could care less. I don't buy me Mam's suggestion the dog did it. Just giving you a little slice of what life with Mam be like.
Gabe
Copyright © 2018 All rights reserved
Story #897
R. Linda:
While we are on the subject of me mother, here be a blast from the past story-wise that be.
We discussed the "borrowing" of me new coat over tea yesterday afternoon (my day off), and with Tonya at work, we openly and, at times, loudly expounded on the coat living for three days at Ben's house (Ben being Mam's non-boyfriend).
"I noticed when he came to pick you up, and before me, coat figured in the equation," I began, but she cut me off.
"Ock! Ar' ye goona start oop on dat agin?" She asked, getting very Irish in her speech.
"Why yes, I am," I replied, holding a finger up for silence.
"I noticed," I got that far before she cut me off again.
"Ye goo on and on like yer beatin' on a dead cow ye ar'."
"Would you stop for just a minute? I be trying to tell you an observation on Ben I have."
She sat quietly, not trusting I wouldn't go back to the coat fiasco.
"I noticed that Ben wore a button-down shirt that was buttoned." I sat smugly, looking at her and biting her lip.
"Wot ye gittin' at Gabriel? Spit it out, would ya."
"Just that he knew the buttons on his collar needed to be buttoned, and they were, unlike someone who went nearly two years oblivious to the fact one side of his collar was buttoned and the other was not."
"I see where yer gooin' wit dis."
"Yup, YOU were the culprit for what two years was it? That YOU would button one side of Da's shirt and not the other, and HE, not an observant man, went off to work every day with the one side buttoned look."
"Well, I wuz tryin' ta taach 'em a lesson, cor it took long enuff!"
"Yes, it did. I can still remember the day he finally discovered the truth. He came home red in the face that his boss's secretary had taken him aside and pointed out the discrepancy of his attire."
"Ooh, he wuz nun too happy he wuzn't."
"Nope, he wasn't. She had asked him how he managed to thread his tie through his collar, buttoning one side and forgetting the other. Was it a fashion statement, she wondered?" I laughed at the memory, and she looked very smug with herself.
"If I didn't button his collar, he'd haf both sides unfastened," she said as if on a witness stand defending her bad self.
"Makes me wonder what else you are capable of doing, and we are not aware of the private japes going on in that steel trap, mind of yours."
She narrowed her eyes at me, which was a surefire indication she was up to no good.
"Ah, see there!" I said, pointing at her.
"Wot?" She was acting all innocent like she had no clue what I was going on about.
"So what are you up to? Mixing cat food in with the hamburger meat? Making Bailey's whiskey cake when we are all at work and eating it yourself? " I threw those out just to get her attention. Then I hit her with the real magic acts going on. "Washing me socks with the towels so static cling makes for a fashion statement of me own, going to work with the bottoms of me trousers stuck to me ankles? Switching the two pictures in the hallway weekly, so we all think we are losing our minds? All that be you, I suspect." I said, watching her shoulders shake with mirth. Yes, she thinks all that gaslight treatment be funny. "If you aren't careful, I'll have you committed."
"Luck dey'd believe YOU when ye tell dem all dat an' dey loook at me all sweet and elderly." She quipped.
"Um, hum."
"An' wit Ben, it wuz a new shirt, obviously, so it was buttoned before he poot it on." She threw at me, getting up and ending the conversation.
She left me wondering what's next on her gaslight agenda. I tell ya, the socks thing has me going. Every morning for a week, the static cling they produce clamps me trousers to them like I be in a wind storm. For the life of me, I can't release the trousers from the socks, so I look like God knows what. All because SHE thinks it is funny.
In addition, we have two photographs of Ireland hanging on the wall as you come down the staircase. She made a big deal that the Cliffs of Moher should be at the upper part of the wall and Kilkenny Castle on the lower. But just this morning, the pictures were reversed. Yesterday, they were like they originally were hung, but weekly they switch. I'm not doing that; Tonya isn't doing that, and the kiddos could care less. I don't buy me Mam's suggestion the dog did it. Just giving you a little slice of what life with Mam be like.
Gabe
Copyright © 2018 All rights reserved
