What Makes Me Laugh

My mom called me a week before we left for Phoenix to remind me not to take our luggage into my grandmother’s house.

“If there is anything black on your luggage, or if it’s dirty, or if it could leave a black mark, just leave it in the garage and carry your stuff into the house. She has a lot of drawers in the guest bedroom.”

I’m surprised she didn’t just tell me to leave my suitcases in the trunk and pack in each item into the house separately. You could eat off my grandma’s garage floor. It’s just as clean as the white and cream carpet and furnishings inside and neither should be soiled by my black marks.

“You know, she can’t see that well anymore, so she won’t notice the black marks,” my mom continued. This was where I was thinking my mom would say not to worry about it, but I should have known better. “So I just get a wet rag and wipe them up if I see one.” Uh huh.

My mother’s warning says a lot about me and my grandmother. She knows that I am a.) an incurable slob who doesn’t mind leaving my bed unmade for the day; b.) incapable of living in a white house and not leaving a mark. It’s just one of those things that goes with my DNA.

She knows that my grandmother, despite being blind in one eye and nearly blind in the other, would mind if I left a mark.

At age 87, with only the help of a walker to get around, my grandmother’s home is cleaner and better organized than mine. I admit, this is a little embarrassing. In comparison to most people I would call myself clean, but not neat. I never iron, and the last time I dusted might have been months ago, but I always hand scrub my floors. In comparison to my grandmother, I’m living in a demolition zone.

My grandmother is also an incredible cook. Despite her physical limitations, she baked oatmeal cookies, pecan pie, coconut cream pie, two coffee cakes, and cinnamon rolls (all by scratch) before we even arrived. No wonder I came back a few pounds heavier! Her kitchen and freezers are perfectly arranged so that she can reach everything, and labeled (case in point, all of her tea bags are in glass jars with an empty tea packet taped to the top so that you can tell what you’re getting). It was easy to clean up after dinner.

I thought about storing our clothes in her dresser drawers, but I seemed to be constitutionally unable. Instead I used the closet to my advantage, piling stuff up on the floor, rifling through clothing as I needed it. She never said anything, but I’m pretty sure she knew what was going on. You can’t hide anything from my grandmother — that’s why I love her.

I’m multitasking, which means that I’m writing this blog at the same time that I’m trying to cook at the same time that I’m chuckling about Doug’s crossword clues so I hope it comes out right.

Last night Doug was doing the crossword puzzle from the Valierian, my hometown newspaper. I asked my parents for a subscription because it just might be (unintentionally) the world’s funniest newspaper. A few weeks ago they featured a long article on the new crosswalk in town. You get the picture.

So, Doug’s doing the crossword and he says, “These are the worst crossword clues I’ve ever seen.”

“Really? What are they?”

He looks over at me with the glasses slightly tilted down his nose.

“Do you know a four letter word for a dwarf buffalo?”

“No. Can’t say I know of any dwarf buffalos.”

“How ’bout a seven letter word for reused mouthwash?”

“Reused mouthwash? Seriously?”

I couldn’t stop laughing thinking about it. The correct answer was “gurgled” in case it ever comes your way. We still don’t know the answer for the dwarf buffalo.

Last Sunday morning I was washing my face and getting ready to take a shower when Doug came in the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and said, “Hey! Our hair looks a lot alike!”

Not a statement a woman wants to hear from her husband early in the morning, especially since I got a short haircut for the summer that I wasn’t entirely pleased with. Anyway, he convinced me to find some humor in it, not touch my bedhead, and go outside for a couple of self-portraits with the camera.

They say couples start to look alike as they age. I’m just hoping I don’t grow any facial hair to prove that theory. 

And yours can too! Momsrising.org created this fun, personalized video to celebrate your mom (and mine) this Mother’s Day. My favorite part is the guy with my mom’s name tattooed on his arm. Do check it out and celebrate one mother’s achievement with me. She deserves it!

My mom just called to share the latest family news and some funny tidbits emerged when she asked me to, “Guess what?”

- My nephew is dating a goat tyer on his college’s rodeo team and wants to go to Las Vegas with her for spring break. The family has already checked out her profile on the school’s rodeo page. Her favorite food is sushi.

- My other nephew’s Kia was stolen this week (possibly because he left spare keys and his ipod in the car) and at age 24 his new choice of car is …. drumroll please … a station wagon. Why does he want this car? “To haul his stuff around.”

The new scratching post

- Despite his constant complaining over the cost of having pets, my father made the cats a new scratching post, which my mother described as, “a beauty” and “it’s like the twin towers.” Construction materials included: an old fence post, a garbage can lid, carpet remnants, a rope, and the metal lid off of a candy jar.

- My mother made the mistake of pointing out miniature chickens for sale to my father when they visited the hardware store in town. Now he wants to buy them to add to his current flock. My mother is opposed to the acquisition.

To quote Dave Barry, “I can’t make this stuff up. I just can’t.”