Tonight my mom called. I had missed the original call, and as we all know, not returning her call can lead to panic, so I called back immediately when I saw the missed call (um, no message; just to mention that).
I was on the way out the door to put gas in the car, and because my mama is her usual lovely but nosy self, she had to know all of the details. It's probably just easier to give the whole conversation.
MOM: So how much is gas there?
ME: Well, I passed by this place today that was $3.59, but I was in a hurry and couldn't stop, so I'm going back now.
MOM: So where is it?
ME: It's right inside Big City.
MOM: [gasp] You mean it's in the ghetto!?!
ME: No, it's not in the ghe . . . well, it probably is in the ghetto, but it's on the edge, not in the heart of it or anything.
MOM: You're going to the ghetto to get cheap gas? What if that's the last gas you buy!?!
ME: Oh, it's fine. Don't worry. It's a new gas station. Lots of lights around.
MOM: Well, you make sure you lock those babies in the car while you're out. And don't talk to anyone.
ME: The babies are home with Skeeter. I'm by myself.
MOM: [gasp] You're going to the ghetto by yourself for the cheap gas!?!
ME: Mom, Mom, it's fine. Look, I'm pulling in now.
MOM: I'll bet there are no other white people there!
ME: Maybe not. I don't know. Look, I'm not supposed to be on the phone while I'm pumping the gas. There's a no-no sign and everything.
MOM: Okay . . . .
ME: I'll call you back after I'm finished to let you know I'm not dead.
MOM: Okay. You do that.
(Pump gas; all is well; back in the car and call her back. Because she would have been in a tizzy until I did.)
ME: Mom, it's all good. I'm finished filling up, and I'm driving out.
MOM: I feel better.
ME: And there was even another white person there, but I'm pretty sure she was a hooker.
MOM: Oh my word.
ME: It's fine. There was a white person there, right?
MOM: Well, you get out of there before someone thinks you're a hooker too!
(hear Dad in the background, "Is she out of the ghetto yet?")
MOM: (talking to Dad) Yes, she's out of the ghetto. For now. (talking to me again) You are the reason that I have grey hair, you know.
8 comments:
I'm cracking up, but I know from personal experience that living with Archie Bunker is hilarious when it isn't happening to you LOL!
Thanks for the chuckle! That was great!
At least she cares!
My Mom does that too and I hate it! She always says to me (if the dogs are in the car with me) "now don't let them run by the side of the road and watch for cars!" Um, yeah Mom, because I let my dogs play by the side of the highway all the time. PFFTT!
LOL Gotta love those mamas. I know some Hookers. Well, it's their last name anyway. ;-)
Your mom sounds a little crazy...in a cute way, of course.
And to think, some day that will be us. Ha!
ROFL!! She cracks me up!
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