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.

Me: Good.

Mother: I remember crying when they sang Lizzie Borden to me.

Me: I cried when they called me Jessicow.

Mother: (laughing)

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.