Mom's Turn

We know all about Dad jokes, right? As a dad, I've proudly and defiantly told my share. But what about Moms? Why don't Mom jokes get their day? Well, let's rectify that. Here's a Mom joke, from me very own Mom.

Mom suffered with diabetes the last twenty or so years of her life, but that didn't get her down. When declining a sugary treat of whatever kind she would explain, "No, thank you. I'm already so sweet I have to take pills for it."

Right on, Mom!

Mom is Funny

Ah, Sundays with Mom. They really are cool.

One day as we crossed the city limits of a small town, she began going, "Oooooo. Oooooo." Looking at her questioningly,  I realised we had just entered Howell. "We are supposed to howl, right?" she remarked.

Passing a large building, she asked if it was a warehouse. "It's a steel plant," I answered.

"Oh." Pause. "What did it steal?"

"Where are we going today?" she once queried.

"Wal-Mart."

Mom squirreled up her face as though confused. "We need to buy a wall?"

These are what memories are made of, right?

Favorite Sons

Yesterday was a good day. I managed to find what I was looking for at Meijer, namely Old Spice deodorant. Regular old Old Spice, not all the hipster variations which seem to dominate the brand lately. What in the name of all that is good and holy is wolfbane anyway? 

With such a difficult time finding it, having actually found what I wanted I bought four. That should hold me for a minute. Quiet Ron.

Being Sunday of course me Mom was with me. As we rode along she remarked, "I am enjoying this! I like the ride and the company!" Then turning towards me she asked, jokingly, "Who are you?"

"I'm your favorite son," I answered. It's become a running joke between us really.

But she got me pretty good yesterday. "Well, if that's what it takes to get you through the day we'll say it."

Give her a rim shot. She earned it.

She still can joke

It can be difficult not to be melancholy when I take me Mom out on Sunday afternoons. Her mind is failing, and she's so obviously just a shell of the woman she once was that, well, it gets rough. So what I try to do is shoot some humor into our trips, as she is yet able to play along. It's a way that we can interact, and it does make the new memories fonder.

Yesterday was no different. She frequently talks about how much she enjoys just riding around, both with me on Sundays and with my siblings at other times. A typical point yesterday was when she said, "I love riding around!"

"I do too," I agreed. "I like the company too!" I added.

"I like the company too," me Mom responded.

Simply trying to tease I next remarked, "You know, one of is is probably lying."

Mom got a little impish grin on her face. Then she answered, trying to sound sheepish, "Well, that might be me."

I couldn't top it.

A joke

Yesterday I took my mother to breakfast and afterwards we did a bit of shopping. With her mind failing she frequently asks the same questions over and over. But we can still joke.

Yesterday it was, "Today's Sunday, isn't it?' She must have asked me a dozen times, and each time I just answered yes it was, just as you're supposed to. But after one time she said, "I have trouble telling Saturdays and Sundays apart."

"Yeah," I replied, "I have that trouble with Mondays and Thursdays." She laughed at that.

Okay, maybe it was a he's my son I have to laugh kind of laugh. But we take what we can get, eh, and she seemed to like it.

Mom demands to golf

I was sitting on the porch with Mom on Sunday; it was about 12:45. She always wants to go somewhere, and for the third time in ten minutes she asked me where we could go. I had been putting her off as I knew my brother was taking her to our sister's house at 1.

When she asked the fourth time I answered, "Well, let's go golfing." I said it as a joke of course. I had said it joking before in fact. She usually wrinkles up her nose in disdain at the idea.

But it turns out she can still joke too. "Okay," she replied this time, "But I'll have to borrow your clubs."

Going along with it I explained, "You can't. It's against the rules to use another player's clubs."

She got a stern look and pointed her thumb at herself. "Do you think they'll tell me no?" she declared.

We didn't go golfing. But it is cool that we can still playfully interact.

She still has her humor

She hasn't lost her sense of humor.

I was sitting with my Mom in her kitchen, on my way to the Shop to play Saturday catch up. Being still pretty cold here in Michigan, I had on my old, heavy Carhartt coat. "Aren't you hot in that?" she asked as we talked over coffee. It was interesting question considering that she herself always complains about being cold.

"Nah, I'm okay," I responded. I then went on to explain to her, thinking she might be impressed by the thought, "Dad gave this to me years ago, well before he passed in fact. I think I've this coat about 15 years."

Mom nodded her head approvingly. Then she squinched up her face and asked, feigning disgust, "You have washed it since then haven't you?" It was clearly a motherly hint that it was rather dirty and in need of care. I could tell because she burst out with a hearty laugh right after saying so. That's how I'm taking it anyway.

For the record I have washed it since then. And that's all you're going to get out of me.