Saturday, May 10, 2008

All I need is a ticket

I am seriously getting worried that it’s not long before I will be taking the train to Crazy Town. It will either be because I have lost my mind on my own, or because my mother and grandmother have decided to pay my way.

This weekend they both offered to help me pack.

I don’t think I’m crazy, which is a sure indicator that I must be crazy, I mean, crazy people don’t think they’re crazy, right? It seems that if you are in your right mind enough to make those kinds of judgments then you couldn’t possibly be as crazy as the ones (like me) who are in denial about their craziness. Whew.

On Thursday it was my mom’s birthday, I called her, because I am nothing if not thoughtful. Then she told me all about how sweet my brother was, calling her first thing in the morning. He’s so busy and he took time out of his day to call her. She cried. I barfed. I did not tell her that the only reason he called was that his wife remembered the date and reminded him repeatedly until he made the call. Then she told me about the wonderful party her boyfriend (she’s too old for a “boyfriend” what can we call him?) had planned for her. It was going to be a swell day.

Except, Dun..Dun…Dun….she had and argument with my granny over gas prices, colonoscopies and bathroom rugs—I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. She said that it was sad that her own mother made her so nuts, she asked if I felt that way about her.

It was her birthday, what would you have done? That’s what I thought.

Early this morning my phone rings, by early I mean, it is Saturday for crying out loud!!! A little respect please! It’s my granny, who in time of crisis cares not one whit whether we live in the same time zone or not.

She’s having a problem, maybe I can help. Yeah, maybe if I had a little more sleep I could, under these circumstances, I can’t promise anything.

“Your mother is very upset with me” she begins. She then relates her version of the story, leaving out the bathroom rugs and inserting instead warnings about Wal-Mart’s prescription program and the high cost of everything in New York City. Which I am assuming she knows because it’s been discussed at the Cracker Barrel, because that’s the furthest she’s traveled in quite some time. I know that because she has just informed me that she just can’t travel—she has bowel problems. (Hey, I had to hear it, why should I spare you?)

After I hang up I am feeling so discombobulated that I call my poor brother and unload on him and his sweet birthday reminding wife, who I am sure wish I would head down to the crazy train station and leave them alone.

I felt bad about it until a little later when my other brother called to say that our mother just told him about the wonderful party our brother arranged for her. That’s right, the party that her lovah planned is now being credited to the man who didn’t even know it was her birthday when he got out of bed that day.

It’s in my blood and I am getting nervous.


blah blah blah said...

First off, don't be jealous that my spouse helps (I mean makes) me look sooo good.

Second, I don't know how I got credit for Jim's little (un)suprise party. I didn't even know what time it was going to be held until we left our house. And then we left early (thank you twins).

And C, you've got the whole train to Crazy Town theory all wrong. Those women never took that train. They built that city.

But I'm sure that you'll be more than welcome there.


wesley's mom said...

Thank you for your support.

I asked ST 3 times if he was sure about his information and he insisted that you were the party planner you big suck up.

You are pretty lucky to have such a great wife, JT's wife only sent an e-mail birthday greeting - But we all know, that on the sliding scale, an e-mail from JT is worth more than 5 or 6 cards and an unsurprise party any day.

blah blah blah said...

If that's the case, I'm just going to have my wife send my mom e-cards as JT from now on. We're set.