Mommy Dearest

My mom just left - she came to spend the day with me. God bless the woman, but Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, she could irritate a Saint.

First, Mom, the house is not going to be clean. I've just spent 4 days in hospital, during which I left it in the care of my husband and daughter, neither of which are neatniks. Add to that the "dirt problem" that I have normally as housecleaning after a full day's work is about as appetizing as shit pie. The WCM is about to discover this - I'm not allowed to lift anything that weighs over 5 pounds, so hefting about the giant laundry baskets will be his responsibility. As will be wielding the mop, shifting toys, and general fetch-and-carry work. The worm turns, my friends, it turns.

Second, Mom, when I have to go potty now, there is no waiting. Nature has called, woman, so NO, I CAN'T "just do this one little thing first." There's another little thing that needs doing, and it takes priority. Never mind the fact that without the lovely pain medication it was really difficult accomplishing certain post-defacatory cleansing rituals...

Third, Mommy Dearest, I don't need help taking a shower. You can just stay somewhere else. Sure, you've seen everything I've got, but not in about 30 years now, so bugger off! Of course, I couldn't manage to shave my legs, but I've decided that the gorilla look is in this season and have been wearing pants.

Fourth, for fuck's sake, pepper is not bad for you! It does digest. My mother is a sweet lady, but kind of wifty about believing urban legends. I want pepper in my egg salad! She relented and put it in there, but it was an argument, and who wants that? It was kick-ass egg salad, though. One egg was plenty. I even left a bite in the cup because I couldn't eat it.

And fifth, when the pharmacy finally calls and says I can come get my pain medication after nearly 24 miserably cranky hours without it, don't ask if it's something the WCM can do in a couple of hours when he gets home.