"What are you doing on Sunday?" It's the message my mother leaves on the answering machine.
Now you don't know my mother. She's a nice person, but she's got some major quirks. Any normal person would tell you what the Sunday activity is. Not my mom--because the upfront approach is not her chosen approach.
When I call her back, she asks the same question. Be very afraid. I ask what she's suggesting that we do. After all, that is the implied question.
"I won free tickets to the Flower & Garden Show!"
Oh. There's nothing wrong with this activity at all. It's just that after knowing me, say, 30 years, my mom clearly doesn't actually KNOW me. My yard is three weeds away from getting us in homeowners association exile. I'm allergic to everything that can cause a person to sneeze (trees, pollen, grass, dust, mold, flowers, etc.). I'm closely approaching 26 weeks pregnant and am having a harder time moving around. And the only plant she's seen me tend is my sixth grade science project. My hypothesis was that microwaving plants would hinder plant growth. And guess what--it does! So what is her logical reason to think that I would enjoy walking around a convention center for hours on end looking at flowers?
Her husband is out of town, but he'll be back on Friday. I suggested that he would like to go. Actually I'm sure he would like to go. He enjoys putzing in the garden. If she wanted to do some mother/daughter bonding, couldn't we look at baby stuff, go out to eat, see a movie, or do some other activity that doesn't involve compulsive sneezing and utter boredom on my part?
If I was a dutiful daughter, I'd go to the flower and garden show with her. But 1) I'm not dutiful and 2) it sounds excrutiating.
Maybe this is what men feel like when they're dragged to bridal shows.
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