It rains, it pours.

Looking up into the cloud-filled sky, I spotted the tiniest inkling of a rainbow. I nudged Mom and told her where to look.

Me: Look, a rainbow!
Mom: Oh yeah! Wow. [beat] You know when you see rainbows? [beat] After it rains.
Me: You're kidding, right?
Mom: No.
Me: You see rainbows after it RAINS, eh?
Mom: Yeah.
Me: No shit, Sherlock. [beat] You're kidding me with this, right? [beat] Can I put this on the blog?
Mom: I don't care.
Me: Are you sure?
Mom: Yeah, I don't care.
Me: You know, they call them RAINbows for a reason, right? 'Cause they happen after it RAINS.
Mom: I never thought about it like that.
Me: Really? Well, they don't call them DRYbows or CLEARbows, do they?
Mom: No, I guess not.

Welcome to my world. My DRYbow-filled world.

I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream

Mom enters the room, issuing a stern proclamation:

Mom: I'm through with ice cream for the rest of my life. 

Well, all right then, but she's gonna have to be the one to break it to the folks at Turkey Hill.

Everyone's Got a Little ADD

6/26/11.

Mom tells me:

"There's a show on now about ADD. You should watch it so we can learn more about your father."

My mom and I have always believed that my dad has a mild case of ADD, since his attention span rivals that of a gnat.

As I was in the middle of watching something else, I let her do the reconnaissance. About every few minutes, I'd get updates:

Mom: Actually, he only has a few of these traits. I'm not so sure he has it after all. 

Five minutes later...

Mom [alarmed]: I think I have it.

Note to self: Monitor Mom's TV viewing habits as she's prone to self-diagnosing.

Hello? Is it me you're looking for?

Countless, I repeat, countless times I have had this phone conversation with my mom:

Me: Hey Mom.
Mom: Who's this?
Me: Um, your daughter.
Mom: Oh, Nicole!

For the record, my mom has only one daughter -- and that be moi. You'd think in all this time she'd be able to recognize my voice over the phone.

40 Winks

Mom is known to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Though she'll deny it up and down, she is -- undoubtedly -- a very sleepy person. Usually, by 7 or 8pm -- she's out like a light on the living room couch. Then, inevitably, she always wakes up five or so minutes before the program she intended to watch ends.

It's at this point Dad will observe:

"She can sleep anywhere. She could sleep upside down, in a tree, like a bat."

I don't disagree with him.

I could have danced all night...

12/20/10.

I don't know how I end up in conversations like this one, but they happen all too frequently. You know, like seeing a terrible movie and wishing you could get that money and time back.

Mom: I'd always wished I could have danced with Fred Astaire. But what chance did I have?

Me: I'm sure a lot of women wished the same thing. [beat] He didn't have many partners, though, did he?

Mom: A few. [beat] He ended up marrying a young one.

Dad: I saw her. She was uggggggly.

Mom: You never saw her.

Dad: I did. I remember it distinctly on the Edward R. Murrow show.

Mom [rolling eyes]: You stay in your dreamland and I'll stay in mine.

It's times like these I never know who to believe. Blissful ignorance is often preferred to the amount of time and energy it would take to determine the accuracy of any of these statements.

It's just another manic Monday...

2/14/11.

On the phone with Mom:

Me: Ugh, I hate Mondays.
Mom: Eh, screw it -- make believe it's Tuesday.

Well, that's one way of coping, yes. But, if you subscribe to this philosophy, you're going to be pretty pissed off when you get to Thursday and think it's Friday. But I suspect Mom, just trying to be helpful and supportive, didn't think that far ahead.

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