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ma mere, une autre fois
Dec. 29th, 2004 02:29 pmAnother little vignette for the sitcom:
Again, my mom and I are in town doing errands before eggs + coffee. I ask for the keys so I can run back to the car and retrieve a package I need to mail, and as I'm walking back dear Mama gets restless, afraid of losing our place on the waitlist at Mondo's or something. She tosses condescending things my way like "shake a leg!" so I toss the keys to her, telling her I'll just mail the stuff later.
Okay, but picture this:
I'm left handed. I cup the keys in my left hand, fling them underhanded in what I think is the general direction of my mom.
Result?
They land atop a roof of one of those damn antique shops in Frenchtown. Fuck.
So after trying to keep a straight face while my mom turned me out, I wondered over to the hardware store and schlepped a ladder over to the store, got the keys, and schlepped the ladder back.
What this reveals about me:
-short temper.
-utterly unathletic.
-limp-wristed like whoa.
-but pretty damn resourceful, when you get right down to it.
Jesus Christ, I really did throw (perhaps a better word is sling? flailingly wing?) the car keys onto a roof. I swear to g-d, things at home just get more ridiculous as time passes.
I'm leaving for NY in about an hour, which means I need to finish this wee essay on deBlase, pack my things, and pray that there's gas in my car. Alors...
Again, my mom and I are in town doing errands before eggs + coffee. I ask for the keys so I can run back to the car and retrieve a package I need to mail, and as I'm walking back dear Mama gets restless, afraid of losing our place on the waitlist at Mondo's or something. She tosses condescending things my way like "shake a leg!" so I toss the keys to her, telling her I'll just mail the stuff later.
Okay, but picture this:
I'm left handed. I cup the keys in my left hand, fling them underhanded in what I think is the general direction of my mom.
Result?
They land atop a roof of one of those damn antique shops in Frenchtown. Fuck.
So after trying to keep a straight face while my mom turned me out, I wondered over to the hardware store and schlepped a ladder over to the store, got the keys, and schlepped the ladder back.
What this reveals about me:
-short temper.
-utterly unathletic.
-limp-wristed like whoa.
-but pretty damn resourceful, when you get right down to it.
Jesus Christ, I really did throw (perhaps a better word is sling? flailingly wing?) the car keys onto a roof. I swear to g-d, things at home just get more ridiculous as time passes.
I'm leaving for NY in about an hour, which means I need to finish this wee essay on deBlase, pack my things, and pray that there's gas in my car. Alors...
