Conversation With My Mother
Me: Aw, I wish you could see Brautigan, Mother.
Mother: Why, what’s he doing?
Me: He’s clapping his little pudgy hands together!
Mother: Oh, I like that… So precious! What’s he oooh-ing about?
Me: He sees his jar of puffs.
Mother: His jar of pus?
Me: Puffs, Mother.
Mother: Well, you never know, the way you are. I was just going to take it in stride, while clutching my heart.
Me: Mother, I almost urinated in my pants.
Mother: Well your phone is muffled… Oh, he sounds like he’s imitating your laugh!
Me: He is!
Mother: So adorable. He sounds like a baby chimpanzee!
Me: I know!
Mother: You should play him some monkeys on your computer.
Me: I would never do that, Mother. I don’t want to give him a complex.
Mother: He’s not going to ever have a chance to get hurt feelings, is he? Someone will make fun of him and he won’t understand.
Mother: I remember crying when they sang Lizzie Borden to me.
Me: I cried when they called me Jessicow.
Me: It’s not funny.
Mother: It’s a little funny.
Me: You know, it’s amazing I made it through my childhood.
Mother: You had a wonderful first five years, I made sure of it.
Me: Well, thank you for the first five, Mother.
Mother: You are more than welcome, little girl.
Me: Can you hear that?
Mother: Sort of.
Me: Brautigan is throwing you kisses.
Mother: Awww, nothing warms the cockles of my heart more.