Conversation with my Mother

Me: I can’t talk. Mother: What happened?

Me: I’m too upset to share.

Mother: You have to share with me, I’m your mother.

Me: (crying) I elbowed the baby in the head, by accident.

Mother: Ohhhhhhhhhh. Did he cry?

Me: For a minute. But he never cries!

Mother: Well, I’m sure the first thing he will diarize will be today’s event.

Me: Thank you, Mother.

Mother: You know I’m kidding. But darling, you’d best get used to boo boos because there will be many, many more.

Me: Well, what if he’s wired now to be on the alert whenever mommy’s near.

Mother: You’re being ridiculous.

Me: And then, there was a mosquito in the house and I thought he would bite the baby so I killed it, and I never kill bugs, but what’s worse is I killed it with an old Edgar Cayce book that I randomly grabbed off the shelf and now I’m worried I jinxed something.

Mother: You can’t be serious.

Me: In some portion of my brain, I am.

Mother: Well you know what, maybe it was his time to come back as something better.

Me: That would be nice.

Mother: Is that all?

Me: No… I then forgot to freeze his teether and now the poor child is suffering more than usual all because of me. I’m a terrible mother.

Mother: Daring, think of all the infants in Sub-Saharan Africa. How many do you think are gumming frozen teethers right now?

Me: Probably not many.

Mother: And I’m sure that’s the least of their concerns.

Me: I suppose you’re right.

Mother: Of course I’m right. Now, don’t you feel better?

Me: I do, actually. Thank you, Mother.

Mother: No need to thank me, darling. I will chop down any mountain and turn it into a molehill for you. I am the Molehill Maven. But… more importantly… the Queen is speaking today. And I insist you go onto your internet and watch. She bears a striking resemblance to your great grandmother. They could be twins.

Me: Ok. I will.

Mother: Very well. Let’s talk later, darling, I’ve got to get over to St. Vincent de Paul’s before it rains.

Me: Alright. Goodbye, Mother.