Merry Christmas – And put down that goose!
Posted by thedarwinexception on December 25, 2006
Since this is Christmas, let’s talk about family.
Take my mother (please).. She lives in Florida, AKA “God’s Waiting Room”. My mother has a tiny problem – she’s psychotic. Oh, wait a minute – “Mom – I know you read this! Look away- I told you – don’t read today’s entry!”
OK – now that she’s gone – yeah, my mother is psychotic. Her psychotic-ness manifests itself in many, many ways, but one of the most noticeable ways is in her tendency to “overdecorate”. And never is that more apparent than during the holidays. And not just Christmas – any holiday. My mother has a front yard, which is unfortunate, because she fills it with decorations for every season, holiday or theme.
My mother is also nosey (and I know you are still reading this, Mom). My mother is that batty old woman at the end of the street who always calls the cops, always gets involved in every neighborhood dispute (probably starting most of them herself) and always sitting on the porch judging everyone as they walk by. Yes, that’s my mother.
My favorite mom story involves her tendency to be nosey – and her “overdecorating”.
Mom had these neighbors, and since my mom was convinced that they were drug dealers, because of their frequent guests, she called the cops on them, not once, but several times. They got a little perturbed. I mean, why not, right?
So, Easter came around, and my mother, as usual, decorated her entire yard in an Easter Wonderland, complete with eggs, rabbits, ducks, baskets, streamers, signs, neon and windmills.
She calls me, one morning totally upset. “Those sonofabitches across the street! I’m calling the god damned cops on them! Those bastards!”
I say “What, mom? Who are you calling the cops on – the neighbors?” (Because really, why would that be anything new but why would she call me to tell me about it?)
She says, “Yes, those bastards, they stole my goose.”
“They stole your goose? What the fuck are you talking about?”
Now she’s really pissed, and she yells out “My Goose! MY Goose! The one your Aunt Barbara got me in Vermont – the one I made all the costumes for!”
Now, at least, I know what the fuck she’s talking about. My mother has this goose – that apparently my Aunt Barbara got for her in Vermont (thanks for that, Aunt Barbara). It’s one of those stupid fucking geese that you dress up in all kinds of “holiday and season appropriate” outfits. My mother made a bunch to supplement the goose’s wardrobe. And now, I guess, the neighbors had stolen it.
So I say to her “Well, mom, why would they steal your goose? Are you sure it isn’t just out there somewhere in that fucking Easter Wonderland somewhere and you overlooked it?”
And she says “NO! They stole it – they left a note in the mailbox!” Ok, now this is getting interesting!
“They left a note in the mailbox? What did the note say?” And now I’m kind of seeing a little humor in this – so I’m kind of laughing while I’m asking – which is only pissing my mother off even more – that I could laugh at such a fucking tragedy of the neighbor’s stealing her goose.
She says “Well, the note is all made out of newspaper and magazine letters – like a ransom note – and it says ‘Leave $5.00 in the the mailbox or you’ll never see the goose alive again.”
Well, that pushed *me* over the edge, and I started laughing. Which made my mother *really* furious, and she started sputtering and stammering at me. “Well,
I don’t see the fucking humor in this at all – I don’t think this is very fucking funny! Your Aunt Barbara gave me that goose! Them god damned bastards –
they are all drugged up, you know, you don’t know *what* they’ll do to that goose.”
Of course, that statement made me laugh even harder, and soon enough, my mother called me a bitch, and hung up on me. I didn’t care at that point, because I was *still* laughing.
And my brother went across the street and rescued the goose. And he later told me that he thought it was fucking hilarious, too, only he didn’t let my mother *know* he thought it was fucking hilarious, which is why he’s the favorite, the fucking brown nosing ass kisser.
But, now it’s a holiday season again, and my mother has done her typical “overdecorating’.
This time for Christmas. My mother has one of the last residential displays that generates enough traffic to require a cop on the corner every once in a while, when traffic gets really heavy. She’s been warned about causing an “attractive nuisance” but my mother is squarely of the mind that “this is my damned house, I can do what I want.” Which I totally understand, but really, she does go over the top.
Here are some pictures of her display this year. You be the judge. Attractive nuisance? Sign of derangement? Or lovely holiday spirit?