Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday...

Mom calls me one day and leaves a message on my voice mail at work. Prior to which, apparently, there was some back and forth about about their lunch plans -- which happens quite a bit.

It generally takes a lot of things to happen first for actual, solid plans to go off without a hitch. First, my mom has to mention the idea. Then my dad has to refuse. Then my mom tries good old-fashioned Italian guilt, to which he seems to think he's impervious. Then, an hour or so later, he comes around and submits to the idea and they end up going. It's rather exhausting to watch, frankly.

So, the voice mail message went like this:

Mom: "Hi Nicole, it's Ma. I just want to let you know if you call and we're not home that we went to Ruby Tuesdays."
Dad [in background]: "Nooooo. We're not going there."
Mom: "Oh, we're not?"
Dad [in background]: "No, I'm not a rubber band."
Mom: "OK. I guess we're not going then. Talk to you later. Bye."

Long story short: They went to Ruby Tuesdays that day. And, as mom says, "the little hamburgers were delicious."

FYI: "Little Hamburgers" = Sliders

Where Could I Be?

January 2010. 
Voice Mail from Mom.

"Hi. Nicole? It's Ma. Are you not working at your desk or something? OK, well. Call me back."

I guess she thinks I'm chained to my desk for 8-plus hours every week day.

Award Season

Since we're officially in the throws of Award Show Season, it's only fitting I should share some of my mom's Red Carpet Comments.

In response to any celebrity who shows up to an award show gala wearing a dress that is extremely low-cut and revealing:

"Oh, look. She brought her two friends."

In response to a celeb who's wearing a very short dress or a decidedly risky neckline:

"She forgot the other half of her dress."

Whenever -- and I mean whenever -- she sees Guiliana DePandi-Rancic on E! she will say:

"Something about her face bothers me."

One time, she went even further to say:

"I saw her on that dumb show she has with her husband and she said to him: 'When we have kids, I hope they look like you, cause you're cuter than me.' And she's right -- I hope they look like him."

As you can guess, watching the Red Carpet with mom is always a good time. ;)

So thoughtful...

Whenever someone bumps into something or hurts themselves in a very minor way and exclaims briefly in pain, my dad will always follow the incident up with:

"I didn't feel a thing."

Rudolph the Blue-Nosed Reindeer

Pre-Christmas 2009.

Every Christmas, my father puts up festive lights. But this last Christmas, he wanted to scale back so it wouldn't be such a hassle to take everything down again. He opted for an all-white pre-lit lawn tree and a small white reindeer.

He later decided he wanted to add a larger white reindeer to the mix. So, he went to Home Depot. Turns out, they were out of the larger white reindeers, except for the floor model. He convinced the manager to sell it to him for $10.

He took the reindeer home and plugged it in. Only half of it lit up. No problem: He's Mr. Fixit. He proceeded to try different methods to light the bulbs that weren't working to no avail.

A week of attempts later, he decided to go out and purchase a string of lights to compensate for the strand that wouldn't light up. Lights in place, all ready to go, he lights the thing up -- and it's blue. All told, the budget reindeer ended up costing around $30.

And that's how a hybrid blue-and-white reindeer ushered in a Merry Christmas 2009.

A rose by any other name...

True Story:

The night my parents met, my mom told my dad her name was Carol (not her name) and that she was a beautician for the Arthur Godfrey Show (not her job).

She tells me this was her friend's idea, to tell a playful lie. She fessed up later on the same night they met.

It's been 51 years, so I guess he wasn't bothered by this. Either that, or he hadn't been in the country long enough to tell one screwy broad from the other.

Chicken Little

1/5/09. Approximately 5:50pm.

On the phone with mom. As is the case with all of our phone conversations, there's always some tidbit or warning she must impart before saying so-long. We're about to hang up when she says:

Mom: Be careful. It's icy out.
Me: Is it? 'Cause I don't think it is.
Mom: I haven't been outside today, but you never know.
Me: It's fine if you have information that could be useful to me, but don't go making stuff up.
Mom: Well, there could be an icy patch.
Me: An icy patch? Ohhhhhkay. Well, as always, it's been nice talking with you, but I gotta go.

Always a good time.

Skatey 8

Whenever my mom wants to get across to me that something involves a large number, she uses the term: "Skatey 8."

"That lady has skatey 8 cats."

I have never heard this term used by anyone else. If you have, by all means, drop me a line. 'Cause I think she's making this crap up.

Lost in Yonkers

My dad is an angry driver. You'd never know it by talking to him or knowing him, but the minute he gets behind a wheel he becomes a different person. And, it doesn't take much to tick him off. Naturally, driving in the city is not a pleasurable experience. It's also usually a much longer trek than originally planned, because there are wrong turns, misplaced directions and German pride involved.

Case in point: on numerous occasions, he's been leaving the city via Riverside Drive and ended up in Yonkers. Naturally, this makes the trip back home a tedious journey--considering how Yonkers is in the complete opposite direction from the Long Island.

Every time this has happened, it has been

"the NY Department of Transportation's fault for not posting signs properly."

Yeah, that sounds about right.