I Can’t Get No Satisfaction

I just took my daughter to a birthday party at a jumpy castle place.  She managed to jump about 3 inches of gum in her hair.  I just cut it out.  It should grow back by Christmas pictures next year.  My mom friends and I were cracking up.  My daughter tried to get me to go down “Camel Toe” slide with her but I learned my lesson at previous birthday party, hence the name.  Um, that smarted.  Oh yeah, and I needed to get new brakes today.

Mike drove my car somewhere, came home and said in a serious voice “How long have your brakes been squeaking like that?”  I said “Don’t know.  I always turn the radio up so I can’t hear them because that sound annoys me.”  Mike said “Your maintenance light was also on, did you notice that?”  Honestly, no.  I am busy during the day.  B-U-S-Y.  Last week I f’ing forgot to register my daughter for kindergarten because I was preoccupied with our other kid’s imploding adenoids.

My day generally begins with a call from my mother.  Today?  She called to tell me she visited a “bath house” with a friend of hers on East Colfax in Denver yesterday.  “Wow mom, are you pinch hitting for the other team?”  “What does that mean Erin?  It was wonderful. I am going back Monday, you should come.”  She told me that all the women there just walk around naked and it “isn’t even uncomfortable.”  Shoot me.

Apparently, she had a massage, a foot detox and a salt scrub by a naked, overweight woman, with giant boobs flopping around (who works at the bath house 2 days a week and then makes tamales on her days off).  I am pretty sure I would freak if I got tit slapped. According to my mom, “it is totally hygienic.”  Just as you would suspect a bunch of naked ass cheeks convening in steam room would be.  My mom then told me she left there feeling really good about her body after seeing what a random sample of the population looks like naked.  Good for you mom.  Good.For.You.

Getting the picture?! (Eew, I just grossed myself out.)  For Christmas I bought my mom an iPod and downloaded a bunch of music for her.  Big Mistake.

2 Days After Christmas…………..

Mom: “Errrriiiiinnn, this one is broken.  You need to return it.”

Me:  “What’s wrong with it mom?  That doesn’t sound like Steve Jobs at all.”

Mom:  “Who’s that?  Is he one of those internet friends of yours?  One headphone doesn’t work.  I had Bob look at it too.  You need to return it.  I am sending it over with your sister.”

Me:  “Okay, I will take a look at it.”

Mom:  “No, you need to go get me a new one.  Bob already tried to fix it.  (My stepdad is a mechanic). I still want the green one but I want a new one.”

Me:  “Okay, I will handle it.”

My sister drops off the iPod.  I take one look at it and push the headphones in all the way and handed it back to her.  Voila.  I f’ing loved college.

The Next Day………. 

Mom:  “I told you it needed to be returned because this one works fine.”

Me:  “Yep, you were totally right.”  Rolling over in bed and turning off my alarm.

Mom:  “Well, I am just glad they took care of it without any hassle.”

Me:  “Uh-huh, we lucked out.”  Googling assisted living home prices in Florida.

Mom:  “Oh and now that I have you one the phone, I am sending it back out with your sister because I want you to take that Jay-Z and Eminem off of there.  Their music is terrible and so nasty.  I like Waylon Jennings.”

Me:  “Okay, just give me a list of who you like and I will download it for you.”   

Mom:  “Well, I basically hate everything you put on there, except Bob Marley.  Here is who I like:  Johnny Cash, Sinead O’Conner, Joan Osbourne, The Rolling Stones…….”  I sat the phone down, peed, washed my face, brushed my teeth, got dressed, brushed my hair, put on make-up, made the kids’ breakfast and got them dressed.

Mom:  “Eric Clapton, Bonnie Rait, Marc Cohen, Willie Nelson, James Gang, Men at Work.”

Me:  “Uh-huh.”  Silently motioning for the kids to get in the car so I could take them to school.

Mom:  “Jack Johnson, Santana, Al Green, Annie Lennox but the only the “Diva” album, Joanie Mitchell…….”

Me:  Carefully setting the phone back down, taking the kids to school, swinging by Starbucks, returning fifteen minutes later, quietly picking the phone back up.

Mom:  “Some Black Eyed-Peas songs but not all of them, John Hiatt and Robert Cray.”

Me:  “Okay, I will get it done for you.”  Trying to figure out how to fashion a noose.

Mom:  “Only if you have time.  Thanks honey.”

So I called my mom and read this blog to her and asked if I could publish it.  Her response: “Yes, but don’t forget The Rolling Stones.  I want the Rolling Stones.”  XO


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