Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Reach Out and Touch Someone

Some of you might get this post in your feed twice... I apparently published it before Monday's post... even though it was written well after that... Am I skilled, or what??

My mom had a good Mother's Day weekend. On Saturday the Angsty Teen and I took her to an antique store she wanted to meander through... and she loved this painted pitcher.
So that's what I bought her for her Mother's Day gift. I tend to go with gifts that are consumable because their living space is small. She enjoys tea, popcorn, biscotti... fun stuff like that. But this year I was able to buy her something she loved and wanted to have. Yay!

On Mother's Day the Stern German picked my parents up for church. (I was teaching preschoolers about worshipping idols... well, more like not worshipping idols...) Bless his heart. That's not an easy job... what with jackets, walkers, a wheelchair, and difficulties getting into and out of the car...

Because he loves me, the Stern German wore his cute-a** jeans (No... not his Farmboy Wranglers... his 7 for All Mankind jeans.) Can't believe I ever talked him into buying them...
(source)
He wore them to church a while ago when my parents were with us... my mom heard me tell a friend that the Stern German had his new jeans on... I (honestly) never said anything about them being his cute-a** jeans to her...

My mother turned to the Stern German and said, "Let me see your jeans.... Turn around." (Yes, that's totally normal... your MIL wants to check out your arse...) Then she reached toward his butt to check out the fabric... I think that's what she was checking out. Hmmm...

On Mother's Day the Angsty Teen wore her new aqua lacy shorts from Loft to church... and as soon as she stood up to sing, I knew this would happen...
I'm pretty sure she's not a perv.... I'm thinking she was trying to see what the fabric was like.

Apparently, my mom still lives by Ma Bell's slogan back in the 70s/80s:

If you don't want to watch this kind of weird commercial full of skinny white people... (Yes, I think it does look like the one guy is leaning into the car to kiss the other guy's wife good-bye.... Doesn't it look like it?)... you can just read this:
You get the gist...

At lunch on Mother's Day my mom did the same thing to me... I was wearing a silver shell (Cue Christmas song...) under a jacket. The silver shell was slightly shimmery... try saying that fast three times...


... and she, once again, reached out and touched someone... but this time it was me, not the Angsty Teen, and this time it was my chest, not the Angsty Teen's buttocks.

Maybe my mom just really likes AT&T... or maybe she really is a perv.

It's possible that she is just pretending to be a pervert because she just wants to go to prison so she doesn't have to take care of my dad anymore... (Sometime I will tell you about how she accidentally steps on his oxygen hose...)

5 comments:

  1. hahahahaha I think your mom and I would be best friends. accidentally steps on the oxygen hose. Too good.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hilarious! My mom will put on her Grandma glasses, which are always on top of her head, to examine anything on my face or body. She also does this to my kids and husband. If she thinks you've got a spot....she's coming in for a better look so watch out! She also touches all of my clothes and the other day she was grabbing my side fat (aka muffin top) while I was trying to have a serious conversation with my sister-in-law. Aw moms!
    Thanks for sharing!
    Ashley Rane Sparks
    www.makeitrane.com

    ReplyDelete
  3. hahaha are those shorts FELT... they are now!!!

    ReplyDelete
  4. I have been lurking on your blog for several months now and am finally officially stopping in to tell you that your blog is fantastic. I was reading it tonight at work and I could not even hold in my laughs. I'm sure the girl sitting next to me thinks I'm insane.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks for the kind words! Glad you took a few minutes to comment... Hope your co-worker doesn't have you committed!

      Delete