... that my Mom lives 10 minutes away?
I'm looking at this also as a chance to "get right" with her. Not that there is anything truly wrong with our relationship, I just want to be a better daughter. She can be tough on me, and I do get my feelings hurt when we talk - but I am learning that is because she is, shall we say "plain spoken" and I am extremely sensitive. Like so many things it is how I choose to react that matters.
We've had a few bonding experiences. We call then garage sales. I left a lot behind, and a lot needs to be replaced. Like my beloved crock pot. We shant speak of Swampy.
I got this at an estate sale.
$8 and it steams shit.
After further inspection, my mother began to covet my new steaming crock pot. She stroked it lovingly. She peeled off the price tag and told me how it was a good deal and had she seen it first, she would have gotten it. Garage sale-ing in these parts is apparently a competitive sport, and the only blood that matters, is the blood that is spilled on the way to the check out table. She asked me if I would trade it for her crock pot.
This is the woman that found my little home in the wilderness, and cooks extra sausage for Dash at dinner, how could I say no? I was willing to go in blind, but Mom insisted that I see it before the deal was made.
Sunday I packed up for dinner with the parents, and I brought my cool steaming crock pot to my parents house.
This is what she wanted to trade
Okay, let's wrap our heads around the fact that NASCAR crock pots exist. And apparently this is Richard Petty crock pot. The king of racing and crocking. I wondered, " Am I ready to own a freaking NASCAR crock pot, no matter how kingly it is."
Thankfully my Dad stepped in The King would not be leaving the house.
On the way home I tried to decide what the best part of my day was, the discovery that there were NASCAR crock pots, that I almost owned one, or that it was so treasured that it wasn't allowed out of the house.
Honestly, I think it was when I took a picture of The King ( and really shouldn't it be an ELVIS crock pot? Which I would gladly own.) My Mom screeched "Why are you taking a picture? YOU ARE GOING TO MAKE FUN OF IT ON THE INTERNETS."
Yes, Mom. Yes, I am.
After further inspection, my mother began to covet my new steaming crock pot. She stroked it lovingly. She peeled off the price tag and told me how it was a good deal and had she seen it first, she would have gotten it. Garage sale-ing in these parts is apparently a competitive sport, and the only blood that matters, is the blood that is spilled on the way to the check out table. She asked me if I would trade it for her crock pot.
This is the woman that found my little home in the wilderness, and cooks extra sausage for Dash at dinner, how could I say no? I was willing to go in blind, but Mom insisted that I see it before the deal was made.
Sunday I packed up for dinner with the parents, and I brought my cool steaming crock pot to my parents house.
This is what she wanted to trade
Okay, let's wrap our heads around the fact that NASCAR crock pots exist. And apparently this is Richard Petty crock pot. The king of racing and crocking. I wondered, " Am I ready to own a freaking NASCAR crock pot, no matter how kingly it is."
Thankfully my Dad stepped in The King would not be leaving the house.
On the way home I tried to decide what the best part of my day was, the discovery that there were NASCAR crock pots, that I almost owned one, or that it was so treasured that it wasn't allowed out of the house.
Honestly, I think it was when I took a picture of The King ( and really shouldn't it be an ELVIS crock pot? Which I would gladly own.) My Mom screeched "Why are you taking a picture? YOU ARE GOING TO MAKE FUN OF IT ON THE INTERNETS."
Yes, Mom. Yes, I am.
The Internets thank you.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I must mention. I don't know if you chose your blog's background deliberately--as Thoreau meant to live at Walden--but it epitomizes one of my favorite Thoreau passages about fish. If not deliberate, a happy accident. (I am a big Thoreau fan, even though I suspect he was maybe a little cranky and might not have smelled so great all the time.)
ReplyDeleteI chose it for two reasons, fishing is huge here, and the quote "Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not the fish they are after."
DeleteI think he might have been a crank too, but still ... he's up there with Poe.
The Crock pot is king, but I don't know that I would go so far as to have the king of racing joining in.
ReplyDeleteGotta love garage sales!
I want an Elvis crock pot.
ReplyDeleteOkay. Seriously. I about peed my pants reading this. I am still sitting here with tears in my eyes. I love your blog already and love that you shared it with me. :)
ReplyDelete