Saturday, April 12, 2008

Nicknaming the Rose

Alternatively titled: Why I think Shakespeare knew jack about mothers.

Each time I leave home for a substantial amount of time, dad gives me a hug while my sister stands around shuffling her feet looking uncomfortable. Within a few days, mom calls to tell me my new name. The name she calls me by till I make her angry at me and she forgets. So far I have had seven names. Hand-picked, personalized, delicious monikers. One almost lasted two whole days.

So you see I'm not just a bitch. I'm a lucky bitch.

And if you ever read this mom, then please note that the human brain is not fully developed till the subject in question has attained a reasonably mature age... which is usually pegged to be somewhere around the early 20s. Till then we are all just half-brain-retard-type people. And that mom, is my excuse.

5 comments:

Unknown said...

Yes aunty..,We solemnly nod our heads in unanimous consent with what she had to say..especially with the last part..(or is it the penultimate sentence...i can never be sure...)

Betty Foy said...

Why does this not surprise me? You my friend are becoming predictable. Tragic. But true.

Anonymous said...

Agree with you on exactly "one line" there. Go figure.

Betty Foy said...

That you know jack about mothers... it's fairly obvious you know.

Unknown said...

@Betty: you make it sound as though its a terrible thing...
see mom,.atleast someone agrees i am predictable,..and i didnt even have to twist the arm...

@shakespeare: none of my business, i know,but couldnt resist...if you are feeling like,."aww, shucks..", i'll understand....;-)