Monthly Archives: February 2018

Mom’s Nose


After locking my apartment door, I fish in my pantry for something to make my bitter nightly medicines go down easier.

My Hubby—”How did critique group go?”

Me—”Fine.” I’m focused on the snack search. I just ate a full dinner, but it’s Friday night.


I scoop up a spoonful of peanut butter and stick a bunch of chocolate chips to it. I get it just right, insert it into my mouth—

Mom pops out of her room, “Welcome home.”

Me—”Hmfph.” I’m busted, but turn to give her a smile.

Mom—”Like my chin whiskers?” She has a bright white mask plastered to it. It contrasts with her black ski cap that she wears to keep warm.

Me—”Ack, oh, hm.” Mom’s nose matches her chin.

Mom—”And this is what happens when you stick your nose in someone else’s business.”

Outstanding visual, thanks Mom.

#Nose #caregiver #chocolate #peanutbutter


Mom Finds Doggie-Walk Bags


Our apartment complex provides bright green doggie doo clean-up bags for the owner’s convenience, and for the neighbors’ delight. Not always used by said owners, gag, but more often than not.


The other day, Mom returned from her afternoon walk with a confession ready.

Mom poured a cup of coffee, “I went into the office today.”

I sat at my laptop in the dining room, “Oh?”

Mom—”I talked to a young lady who looked like she’s still in school. But she probably isn’t.”

I continued my search for tax documents, “Why did you need to talk to her?”

Mom—”Well, I didn’t want her to think that I was doing something that I shouldn’t.”

I looked up from my key board, “Really? What were you doing?”

Mom—”I used doggie bags for the cigarettes butts.”

Ewww. “Mom, where they full bags?” I glanced at my hubby. His eyes were huge.

Mom—”Of course not! They were blowing around in the parking lot, on the street, and by the sidewalk. I didn’t want them to be wasted.”

Me—”Of course not.” Mom is an original EPA volunteer from the 1960’s. (Story to follow).

Mom—”I filled the bags up with my Reacher. Anyway, the girl was just pleased that I like to pick up the trash.”

There you go. Please repurpose any clean, green doggie bags that you see blowing around with the wind.

#doggies #trash








Mom Sees Jewels


Mom—”When you get the chance, come and see something. I just found a jewel. I’ve never seen it before. It’s really pretty, it looks like a diamond.”

Me—”A diamond?” Did I lose a diamond?

In our apartment’s kitchen, Mom stood in front of the granite counter, near the sink. She poured her morning coffee.

At my computer I struggled with balancing my checkbook. With my limited math skills.

Me—”Okay…just a minute.”

Mom patiently waits.

I lay down my check register, left my desk, and entered the kitchen.

Me—”Where is it?”

Mom—”It’s in the darnedest place.” She pointed with her long, unpainted, pointer-finger nail. “Right there.”

Me—”Um, I don’t see anything…” I moved closer and squinted.

Mom—”You have to get the right kind of light. See it now?”

fullsizeoutput_36adMe—”Oh, yea. It’s part of the granite counter-top.”

Mom—”Why would granite have jewels in it?”

Blank. I don’t have enough time for this conversation. I’m due at an appointment.

Me—”Granite glitters when it’s cut.”


Mom—”Oh. And here’s another one.” Her unpainted nail poked it.

I knew to get real close right away, in the right kind of light.


Me—”That’s a piece of plastic.”

Mom—”Isn’t that just plain weird? Diamonds and plastic look the same. I never thought about that before.”

There you have it.

Why buy an expensive diamond when you can use cheap plastic wrap?

#jewels #diamonds

Mom’s Eyebrow


Mom had an effective form of correction in our family—Her Eyebrow. When we detected the Eyebrow…we knew what came next. Punishment or discipline (whatever word you choose to use), loss of privileges, no dessert, etc.


My sister and I still discuss The Eyebrow, and we are both Over The Hill.

Mom—”When you were two years-old you used to try and charm me by asking, ‘Mommy, why are your eyebrows mad?’ You’d touch my face. I’d tell you that they weren’t mad, I was upset with you.”

Sis—”The Eyebrow! Remember the Eyebrow? I stopped my sass when I saw it. We all stopped whatever we were doing for the Eyebrow!”

Me—”Oh yea, and you guys would even warn me. (I’m proudly the Baby). “The Eyebrow!” you’d say, or one of our brothers, “Ooo, The Eyebrow, you’d better watch out!”

Mom’s Eyebrow had impact.

I tried it with my kids—epic fail. They still reminisce about MY Eyebrow attempts.

My son—”Mom, what are you doing? Why are you making that weird face?”

My daughter—”Wow. You can raise one eyebrow at a time? Show me how.” (She has Mom’s Eyebrow).

Me—”I am angry! I am making this face to warn you to STOP.”

My kids—”Hahahahaha! You don’t look angry! You just look funny! Hahahahaha!”

I did not inherit Mom’s Eyebrow.