I have the supposed luxury of living about 8 minutes from my mother. I go visit her often and last night I decided to just crash there since I was so exhausted. I cooked dinner, we ate, watched Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune and then I called it a night… crashed on the couch.
A little back story: Count back 2 weeks from a week ago, I went through some debilitating stomach issues. I usually have an iron stomach, but when it goes, it goes in a bad way. I ate countless Tums, bottles of Pepto, Gaviscon, Gas-ex, and Tagamet. It was a cocktail that kept me sane. I’m back to normal, but apparently my mom thought I was going to die.
Fast-forward to this morning. I am not a morning person at all, I don’t like to speak or be spoken to until I snap out of my lingering walking coma. My alarm went off, I am just laying there contemplating severing a finger or toe so I can call in sick. The house phone rings and the answering machine picks up. My mom goes to listen to the message then comes and sits in the chair next to me laughing… kind of. She proceeds “Remember your stomach was bad for two weeks, you were so bad that I started to think I can’t pay to bury you so I called to get insurance” So that’s who called? “Yes they needed to ask you some questions before they can do it, it is just 20 or 30 dollars a month for $50,000.00” So you took out insurance on me in case I died? “No, just to help with burial” But, it only costs like $15,000.00 to bury someone, what was the other $35,000.00 for? Vacation? “NO!” Yeah right, I can see it now – Seiko, where are you? “Hawaii” But your son died yesterday. “I know, how do you think I afforded this?”
Gotta love mom, always thinking. This is a woman that will not fly on the same plane as me if we go on vacation, because we are like the president and vice president. In case all hell breaks loose, one of us must go on to clean it all up.