This weekend I realized, even more than ever, I am truly my mother’s daughter.

In fact, I came to the conclusion that she and I should probably hang out less.

Drew came home this weekend for the first time in about three months and he was appalled at my behavior.

We went out to dinner last night as a family. This restaurant is one of those restaurants that has hibachi style Japanese food (yum!) and it was really loud.  Drew sat between Mom and I and we were in a situation where neither of us could hear what the other was saying.

More than once, Drew stopped and looked at us, exasperated and incredulous.  He could not believe his eyes or his ears.  Not only did both Mom and I interrupt each other, but we were usually asking the same questions or making the same observations.  At the same time, or just seconds apart.

This is deeply upsetting because Drew and I make fun of Mom all the time.  She only tends to half-listen so she ends up saying “huh?!” and “what?!” a lot during conversations.  It also doesn’t help that Drew and I have our own special, weird sibling language. You know, the kind of language where you don’t speak in complete thoughts or even real words.  Really, we can have an entire conversation in movie lines and weird faces. That might sound a little shallow, but in actuality, our conversations aren’t always all surface-y, even though we are using other peoples’ words.

I love that about us.

Mom, however, does not love that.

She tends to get lost a lot.

But then she throws out gems like this:

What? Elvis is walking in a train station?

She said that in response to something I had said to her over the phone one time.

Or she just makes her own conversation and hopes it catches on. It usually only catches on because I think what she said is so ridiculous and random that I immediately latch on and tease her relentlessly.

For example, Drew shared this gem with me last night. She apparently said this:

His cart pulled up and I immediately turned to the kids and said, “Look at that giant wheel of butter!”

I’m fairly certain she said that to the woman she was talking to at our hibachi table (whom she had just met- and then proceeded to advise her 16 year old son about which engineering programs to pursue at various schools known for engineering.)

Oh, the other thing that’s hilarious about my mom? If she’s not talking about work, Drew, or me, she’s talking about Chief.  And with a face like this, why wouldn’t you?

he is SO presh!

My family is awesome.

Advertisements