Hung out with the mom last night…she’s doing her chemo this week, which makes for a spunkier mommy. She can be very Jekyll and Hyde on the chemo. Even Hitler is taken aback at mom’s newfound brazen attitude.
Mom was telling me about the wench of a nurse at the chemo…. Apparently mom was eating a pastrami bagel with onions (VOMIT). The nurse asked that maybe next time she can leave the onions off… Mom made a snide comment back that she would leave the onions off next time if she doesn’t have to wait over an hour to be brought back.
She then got excited about the price of cereal at Trader Joe’s if you buy the TJ brand. She was saying that the cereal that she and my aunt eat all the time from Kashi, is way cheaper in the TJ brand. She was trying to remember the name,
Mom: Sticks…twigs….sticks and twigs
Me: And berries. (giggle, giggle)
Mom: No, no berries. Sticks, twigs
Me: And berries. (giggle, giggle)
Mom: There’s no fruit in the cereal. Twigs and…
Me: And berries. (giggle, giggle)
Mom: Why do you keep saying berries after I say twigs???
Me: Mom- don’t you know what ‘twigs and berries’ are?
Mom: No. What the hell are you talking about?
Me: Twigs and berries….the twig is a penis and berries would be the scrotum testicle.
Mom: You are so dumb sometimes.
We went to Target after dinner…just chatting about random stuff. I get a text from PPE, it’s a stupid joke, and I lightly giggle. Mom asks what was so funny.
Me: I got a text from PPE, “if athletes get athlete’s foot, what do astronauts get…”
Mom: Crotch rot.
Me: Did you just say crotch rot??
Mom: That’s not the answer?
Me: NO! It’s ‘missile toe.’ I can’t believe you just said crotch rot!!!
***I rapidly text PPE my interaction with my mom and my phone chimes***
Mom: Now who’s dinging you??
Me: PPE. He can’t believe you said crotch rot!
Mom: You told him that???
Me: You said it- its fair game. Just wait until I tell Hitler!
We drift over to the kid clothes section, I call Hitler about some pj’s for Mr. Boo, and mom’s all trying to talk over me on the phone about selections sizes, generally being spastic. Hitler asks what’s going on with Mom- I tell her she’s being a retarded spazz.
Later in the evening I call Hitler to tell her about the crotch rot. She’s laughing, she then tells me about the chemo/onion story (Hitler’s an RN and works at the hospital that mom goes to for chemo, and will stop by and visit her on the chemo days). I said that mom told me the dealio. She said that the room smelled really bad and she was there after mom was done eating, and she was all crazy bitch about the RN asking she omits the onions next time. We converse about the ‘roid rage mom’ a bit longer.
Rock out, with your rotting crotch. YUM!
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