Happy Happy!

Today is my mom's birthday! Happy birthday, Mom!

In honor of my mom, I will share with you Crazy, in three acts.

Act One

Email I got from my mom, while I was in Oregon:

ia went to hang a picture that i had taken out of the :guest" bathroom and i cant find it, have you seen it it;s a picture of pots of geraniums. hope you are having better weather than we are!

My response:

I can kind of picture it, but I haven't seen it. I don't have it, but I wouldn't mind if I did! haha
The weather is hot! It's been in the low 90s, but it sounds like that should break to high 70s by tomorrow or Friday. What about you? In the 200s? I miss you!

Note the punctuation. And the capital letters.

Then I got this email from her, the next morning:

i'm sorry but i won't be able to watch scotty anymore, they are coming to take me away. i found the picture, hanging exactly where i wasnted to hang it. so sad to lose your mind.

That's right. My mother, who is crazy, was looking for a picture, which she subsequently found, in the place she wanted to hang the picture.


Act Two

It was about a week later that I was walking by a bird cage in the backyard, when I saw a dove with IT'S HEAD ON UPSIDE DOWN. I couldn't make this up.

"Oh my god! Mom! There is something wrong with this bird!" I yelled from the yard, panic-stricken. I had my fingers wrapped into the wire of the cage, trying to see if an animal had somehow forced it's way through and hurt this poor creature.

She appeared on the back porch, standing at the door. Sighing. "No," she said, "It's okay. I really didn't want you to see that."

"What do you mean? What's wrong with this thing?"

"Well, Bev called me, and she was really upset because she had this dove that has neurological problems... [there was more here, but I couldn't hear it over my laughing] ... It's not funny! And anyway... Stop laughing! ... Oh forget it, I know you're going to blog about this. Just. He's going to live, he just has problems!"

Just like every other animal on her farm.

Intermission

Act Three

I am taking my mom to see Gram, who is in the hospital in Sacramento. It's about 100 degrees in the shade, we're in the mini-van, and we're by ourselves. I type the hospital's address into the gps, and we head off.

My mom is the type of person who doesn't understand 'direction'. Like, if you tell her to head south on a freeway, she loses her mind. "Is that toward Walnut Creek or San Jose?" It's just south, ma, go south.

My dad drives. Unless he's not there, then I drive. If I can't be there, we put Scotty in charge.

As I'm getting off the freeway, at the exit prescribed by the gps, she starts to panic. "This isn't the exit your dad used...he took that one, where the arena is..." She's suddenly sitting upright, pawing at the window.

"It's okay, ma, it's just one exit down, it doesn't matter which one we use."

"Yes...yes, it does matter, we have to go by the arena!" She's decombusting now, and her voice is getting louder and shriller.

"It's fine. Look," I say, merging into the street traffic after exiting per the gps instructions, "The arena is, like, right over there, somewhere, we're just further up the same street."

"No! No it's not, Mia! The arena is NOT right there, I don't see anything, Idon'tseeanythingatall! Where are we? This is wrong! This is wrong!! This is wrong!!!"

Now I'm getting pissed, because O.M.G., lady, you have lost your mind. "Mom! Stop it! Stop it right now, we are just fine!"

"We're NOT fine, we're nowhere near where we are supposed to be! It's all...wait. There's the hotel we stayed at....oh...okay, there's the Target we stopped at.... I think I recognize that movie theater."

Now she's all better, melting back into the seat, and checking her email on her phone. Me? I'm about to burst a blood vessel in my eye.

Fade
The End