We moved back to my hometown just in time to witness sports history, meaning the Phillies winning the World Series. My mom dragged my rebellious heels away from here in 1981, one year after their last win. Shiver.
My mother admits that she's so superstitious that she has to turn off the TV if the other team starts scoring. I asked her, "You mean you think you're so important to the outcome of the World Series that you actually believe it makes a difference if your, YOUR TV is on or off?"
Affirmative.
This interrogation somehow led to another admission of my mother's, that it's the wife's responsibility to hold onto her husband by being upbeat. Peppy even. I can't remember how the thread of convo actually wove its way from sports witchy mojo to marriage secrets of the fifties, but it did, and I'm a changed woman as a result. I'm going to skip right into the kitchen, make my man a Manhattan and whip up some cacciatore, all with a smile. Or not. In reality, the kids and the hubby are all puking their guts out and I am the lucky duck who gets to mouth-breathe while washing twelve-thousand sheets. Go Phils. I know how to celebrate.
My mother admits that she's so superstitious that she has to turn off the TV if the other team starts scoring. I asked her, "You mean you think you're so important to the outcome of the World Series that you actually believe it makes a difference if your, YOUR TV is on or off?"
Affirmative.
This interrogation somehow led to another admission of my mother's, that it's the wife's responsibility to hold onto her husband by being upbeat. Peppy even. I can't remember how the thread of convo actually wove its way from sports witchy mojo to marriage secrets of the fifties, but it did, and I'm a changed woman as a result. I'm going to skip right into the kitchen, make my man a Manhattan and whip up some cacciatore, all with a smile. Or not. In reality, the kids and the hubby are all puking their guts out and I am the lucky duck who gets to mouth-breathe while washing twelve-thousand sheets. Go Phils. I know how to celebrate.
5 comments:
hope you escape the puking bug, although being the only healthy one washing puke filled sheets sounds like its own little hell. here's hoping the weekend is puke free. will the kids be healthy enough to go trick or treating tonight?
Hi,
Just new to your blog. Love the changes you made to your house. What paint color did you use in your office and upstairs landing?
P.S. Happy to see that you are on Obama side.
Andriana
Manhasset, NY
Andriana, thank you! for reading, and for the props. My office and landing are painted Benjamin Moore, HC-173, "edgecomb gray." go obama!
amelia, I puked. washing sheets was better. I've never had a worse virus. I don't wish it on anyone, not even McCain and Palin. We did manage to go trick-or-treating however, in VERY unfinished costumes. thank goodness they're still too young to fully notice.
OMG, Elise - my mom pulled the same crap on me...I had just had my 1st and was reeling from the birth (almost needed a blood transfusion) PLUS, living for the first time with a newborn and while she's visiting & 'helping out', tells me I should be putting make-up on for my husband every day and never let him come home from work to find me in the same PJs I woke up in. Perhaps good advice on a normal day but on that day, I could not WAIT for her to get the F@#K out of my face! She's been pushing Dr. Laura Schlesinger (the arbiter of relationships) on me for YEARS!!!!!
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