"I'm trying to pack as much as I can in each suitcase. You know me. I can mix and match outfits like a pro as long as I have a few tops and bottoms."
"Yes, you are creative," I say.
"I hurt myself though," she says.
"What?" I say shocked. (Why I'm shocked, I'll never know.)
"I was trying to weigh myself and the suitcase on the scale to see how much it weighed and I pulled something."
"Oh my gosh, mom. How do you do these things to yourself? Are you okay?"
"I'll be fine."
Then there was last winter.
"What's up, mom?" I ask picking up my phone.
"Oh not much," but I fell at work."
"Oh no, did you slip on the ice?" I ask.
"No, I tripped over a piece of bubble gum," she says. (I know it wasn't actually gum, but it was something just as minute.)
"Well that makes sense," I say. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I just skinned my elbow and knee," she says in what appears to be a southern accent.
"I don't know what I'm going to do with you," I tell her.
Then there was my wedding day.
"My shoes are falling apart!" she screams just moments before the guests start arriving. My groomsman and I turn back to see my mother in a crying mess on the floor.
I look down and notice the soles of her shoes peeling off, so there was absolutely no way of salvaging them.
"How am I going to walk down the aisle with no shoes?" she cries.
"We will figure it out," I say. "Barefoot is the new thing. All the famous people do it."
"No! I know what these shoes are! These are dead people's shoes!" she screams. "They put these shoes on dead people to bury them and then try to resell them!"
"Mom settle down..." I say.
"DEAD PEOPLE!" she screams.
"How did you get dead peoples shoes?" I ask.
"I got them at St. Vinny's. (A Wisconsin thrift store)
"Hmmm," I say. "You should have splurged."
So clearly you can see she gets herself into trouble. Even so, when I picked her up from the airport the last possible thing I expected her to say was:
"Oh everything was fine, until I fell off the plane."
It took me a moment to process how someone could possibly fall off a plane, but this was my mother we were talking about. I was picturing her flying out the window, slamming against the wing as she disappears into the troposphere.
Suddenly I just yell, "How did you fall off the plane?"
"Well our initial airplane had something wrong with the hydraulics and they made us deplane to catch a new flight. I was talking to one of the stewards and then he asked a stewardess behind me a question and as a very polite person I always look into the eyes of the people who are talking to me. As I was looking behind me I fell off the stairs and onto the ground."
"Dear lord," I say.
"Yeah, the people behind me were so pissed because all they wanted to do was get on the next plane. Luckily there was a chiropractor a few people back and he checked me over and I didn't break anything."
"Well that's good..."
"Yeah, but then suddenly this ambulance comes roaring down the runway, and I'm in utter shock."
"I was mortified. All I did was hurt my wrist. It clearly wasn't broken. Then again I might have been in shock," she says.
"They tell me they can escort me to the hospital if I'd like to be looked over by doctors. I told them, NO WAY! I'm going to Florida to see my first grandbaby! Then suddenly, piñatas appeared out of the planework and everyone was congratulating me and handing me white wine spritzer and suddenly I was being ushered to first class like I was a celebrity."
"Wow! It sounds like a dream come true, well except for the falling part."
"Yes, but I didn't get hurt that badly, and I got to drink wine and eat roast beef. They kept my ice bag full, and they gave me those little nice roasted nuts that I love. I was really hankerin' for some earlier today. God must have known my heart's desire."
"He sure did. I mean it's a pretty good deal in the end. All you have to do is take a nosedive off a plane and then you get pampered like Queen Latifah."
"It's all because I didn't complain about it. I didn't make a big deal of it. I even offered to sit in my old assigned seat."
"After they offered you first class?" I ask.
"Oh heaven's no, do you think I'm an idiot?"
And a couple hours later, we both made it home safely without any complications or accidental tuck and rolling out of the car door. And Grammy K got to meet her very first grandchild. It was quite momentous!
Although, I'm a little afraid of her holding Rory now. She just informed me today that she tripped over the couch cord and my sandals that were minding their own business in the foyer. I don't know. Apparently I have to Grammy proof the house before I baby proof. Go figure.
Comic By Bitstrips