Calling Mom


PP: “I heard you called a bunch of times. What’s going on?”

Mom: “What’s going on there? What took you so long to call back? I was so worried!”

PP: “Why?”

Mom: “I had no idea why you weren’t calling back! I thought something had happened to you or the boys!!!”

PP: “Nope. Just busy.”

Mom: “Too busy to call your mother?”

PP: “Sorry, Mom. I’m just trying to enjoy the country. I’m, you know, running, biking, taking the baby to the lake and the boys to camp . . . Also, I’m revising my manuscript.”

Mom: “What manuscript?”

PP: “The book I’ve been working on for the past 3 years.”

Mom: “What book?”

PP: “Don’t I talk to you like–every day?”

Mom: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

PP: “Forget it. Anyway, it’s nice here. Quiet.”

Mom: “Do you know anyone there?”

PP: “Actually, today I saw a woman at camp I know from way back. Her kids also come here.”

Mom: “Who?”

PP: “Oh, you wouldn’t know her.”

Mom: “How do you know her?”

PP: “She went to Hebrew High with me.”

Mom: “And she recognized you?”

PP: “Why wouldn’t she? I look the same.”

Mom: “As when you were 5?”

PP: “I wasn’t 5 in high school.”

Mom: “What’s her name?”

PP: “Elisa, but you really wouldn’t know her.” (Mom’s memory is notoriously sieve-like)

Mom: “I remember her.”

PP: “No you don’t.”

Mom: “Does she have a twin?”

PP: “Oddly, yes. But I still think you don’t know her.”

Mom (proudly): “I do. You took ballet with her and her sister.”

PP (sighing): “Her twin is a brother, and you are thinking of Amy and Adina, who were in my class in nursery school.”

Mom: “Weren’t they at Etz Chaim with you for kindergarten?”

PP: “I didn’t go to Etz Chaim.”

Mom: “Yes you did.”

PP: “I went to public school.”

Mom: “Don’t be ridiculous. I never sent you to public school. Dad–” (she calls my dad Dad. He calls her Ma).

PP: “Mom, I have class pictures. I remember my teachers’ names. I–“

Mom: “Daddy confirmed it. You went to Etz Chaim.”

PP: “I did not go to Etz Chaim.”

Mom: “Your teacher was Mrs. Traub. I hear she’s unwell. I saw her brother. I told him you were in her kindergarten class at Etz Chaim.”

PP: “That was your other daughter’s second grade teacher at Hebrew Day.”

Mom: “You have nothing to say about her being sick?”

PP: “I barely remember her. I’m sorry to hear she’s sick.”

Mom: “Hmmph.”

PP: “Mom, I have to go. I want to take the baby into town.”

Mom: “That’s it?”

PP: “That’s it.”

Mom: “Fine. If that’s all you have to say to me–“

PP: “The baby is very restless.”

Mom: “You could call me sometimes. It would be nice if I knew anything about your life these days.”

PP: “I’ll keep that in mind.”



7 responses »

  1. Seriously? I am wondering if our mothers are sisters. The other day my mother said to me, “So what is it you do again?” Oh, and if you want to swap manuscripts for review, just let me know…

  2. I sure hope “mom” does not read this blog. I am also sure by “mom” you mean someone other than your actual mother. I would hate to think I raised a daughter who would write such things about her dear mom. IN PUBLIC!!! I mean, how many people read this Facebook? 400 friends you have. Ok 400. That’s actually a lot. Way to go, maybe you will become famous. And you used me. You’re welcome!

  3. Hey PP,

    As an ardent off-line-sitting-in-a-delayed-train reader of your blog, can you change the settings so that blog readers such as Google Reader will get the whole text, and not only the first three lines? I admit I have no idea how to do this, but I know for a fact it can be done with WordPress as I just got another friend blog-writer to fix this issue in her blog…


  4. It worked! Thanks!! (and to my husband who told me I can ask my friend bloggers to fix this thing.. i would never have known!)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s