My mom called me one day.
Mom: "Hi Honey!"
Me:"Hiiii. How are you?" (Knowing that this amount of enthusiasm is always a sign that I should have just let it go to voice mail.)
Mom: "Good! I'm going to do my kitchen RED!"
(She's very excited and I'm just frightened. My mom has a thing for wallpaper so my mind is immediately overcome with thoughts of red wallpaper with some sort of animal print and her white counter appliances. Oh yes, this is going to be epic. The woman has great taste, let's be honest, but I was worried I was going to go home to a bad episode of Trading Spaces where the wife leaves the room in tears and the husband inquires about the location of his tv. It could happen. Mom wears Betsy Johnson!)
Me: "That'll be cooooo-uhl!" (Well, what would YOU say!? It's her house!)
Mom: "I know! I'm going to get all red appliances and utensils. I'm going to redo the cabinets..." (oh God!) "...and finally get rid of this wallpaper!" (HM! New leaf! Way to go Mom!)
Me: "Are you planning on painting the walls or are you going to leave those alone?" (Please let it be (B), please let it be (B)!!)
Mom: "Oh! No! I'm not painting it, that would look ridiculous with the rest of the house. It's all one room." (Aaaaand... now I'm breathing normally again.)
Me: "Well, that sounds great! Let me know how it turns out! Can't wait to see it!"
A few months later I come home and I get to see the kitchen. I'm over excited. I want to see the wall paper gone. I want to see modern sleek looking cabinets. I want to see something other than that damned white coffee pot!
And I did. The kitchen finally made it into the 2000s and it looked great! The microwave, toaster, Kitchen Aid Mixer (*cat call* Hey baby! Sorry, I have a thing for mixers.), and food processor are all red and shiny and new. And then the heavens shine down upon the most beautiful red and black coffee maker. Oh, praise you Jesus for this wonderful appliance. The white, stained, way past its retirement plan coffee maker is gone and here sits Miss Thang! It's late, but I want to make some coffee. I want to get my mom's money worth! I want to use this bitch!
Me: "Mom! I *love* your mixer! And look at that sexy coffee pot! Do you love it?"
Mom: "Oh, you mean that piece of shit!?"
(Um... what? That's a hot piece of brew machine. It sparkles! It has a self timer yo! And a strength setting. I mean, this is like a mansion compared to that trailer park of a piece of crap she used to have. So, what's with the hostility? I want to cover the poor thing's ears and give it a hug. Damn!)
Me: "What's wrong with it? It's brand new! And it was made in this century mom!"
Mom: "The clock doesn't work."
(I look around... I spy with my little eye... 9 clocks. Microwave, oven, wall clock, plate made into a clock, cable box, mantle, home phone, cell phone, Hey, look at your wrist! Wow, Rolex! All I have is a "Guess?" and it tells time backwards! If you can't figure out the time, we need to have a different conversation!)
Me: (confused silence, inquisitive look)
Mom: "The first one I bought had a broken clock too so I exchanged it and then that clock didn't work either so then I exchanged that one and got this one but I don't want to fuck with it so I'll just keep it they don't have any other red coffee makers anyway." (breath)
Me: "You could get a black one!"
Mom: "No, I want the red one!"
Me: "So you'd rather pay full price for a broken one that's the right color?"
So I'm messing around with the coffee maker. The third coffeemaker... thinking about this and sort of worrying. What if there's a short in it and that's why it's not working? I hope the store took them off the shelves! What if they're trying to charge people full price for a coffee maker with a broken clock that could burn down their homes? I'm starting to get frantic when I run my hand over the front of it and feel something... funny. Is that...? What is...?
Me: "It's the STICKER!!!" (Mad and LAUGHING. Hard!)
Me: "You didn't take the sticker off the front of the clock. The clock works, you don't."
She dissolves into a fit of laughter and probably extreme embarrassment. My mother had returned and probably made the store damage out two perfectly great (and expensive) coffee makers because she missed... a sticker.
Is this hereditary? She does this a lot. She knows the name of every muscle, meridian and bone in the body but couldn't figure out a sticker. She's not stupid. She's just, blonde?
Tonight we're watching tv and this commercial comes on with these giant metal spheres plunging out of the sky. I'm freaked out. What the hell kind of commercial is this?
Mom says: "I can't wait until this show comes out!"
Me: "What is it? It looks freaky!" (There are things falling from the sky, slamming into Earth, leaving giant holes and people are following them and looking at the destruction in awe. Scary music is playing. Sorry. Not my kind of show.)
Mom: "It's Droid!"
Me: "It's "the" Droid Ma. The Droid is a cell phone."
Please God, let it be the bleach. Please tell me that this is not in my genetic instructions.
And excuse me Verizon? I actually *want* the Droid. But if you keep making it look all freaky transformer cell phone... I'm going to change my mind! I don't want my cellular device to grow legs in the night and strangle me for accidentally dropping it. K? Think techno and pink and flowers... I will feel much safer with a phone that doesn't have an ulterior motive.