My mom got remarried this past weekend. Good for her. Gets me off the hook for taking care of her. The ceremony was held at her and the fella's house. They read their own vows. There was lots of talk of "sunset years" (she being 62 and he being 74). I was fine with the whole thing. I'm an adult. Glad she's happy. I will say I turned a bit green when she vowed, in front of the officiant, and both families, to be his "companion and lover." Yes, I'm 32, but, still, kinda gross.
Anyway, after the wedding and the dinner, as I was preparing to leave someone asked mom where they were honeymooning. Knowing her sense of humor, I immediately shouted, "Don't say...!" as she thumbed in the direction of the bedroom and said "in there!" I'm trying to dry out after a particularly boozy holiday season. I held to it, but damn if that didn't make me want to drown my brain in the sauce in hopes of destroying the brain cells that would remember that. Mom saw the look on my face and laughed. I got the hell out of there and did my best not to give it a second thought.
Mom has a first cousin she's close with, Bobbi. Even though she's supposedly in her "sunset years", mom's not remotely dignified, as I always assumed happened when people hit some indeterminate age threshold (around 45?). Neither is cousin Bobbi. Those two seem more like wacky preteens when they're together, gossiping and teasing and generally jib-jabbering non-sensically and being awkwardly crude.
This morning, I awoke to the following facebook message from Cousin Bobbi. Alcoholic brain damage will not get rid of this one.
"Your mother is grossing me out with 'honeymoon' talk. All I can hear and visualize is the sound of loose skin slapping...kind of like the sails on a boat before they catch wind! I must have a talk with her to keep this old fart honeymoon stuff to herself!"
Anyway, after the wedding and the dinner, as I was preparing to leave someone asked mom where they were honeymooning. Knowing her sense of humor, I immediately shouted, "Don't say...!" as she thumbed in the direction of the bedroom and said "in there!" I'm trying to dry out after a particularly boozy holiday season. I held to it, but damn if that didn't make me want to drown my brain in the sauce in hopes of destroying the brain cells that would remember that. Mom saw the look on my face and laughed. I got the hell out of there and did my best not to give it a second thought.
Mom has a first cousin she's close with, Bobbi. Even though she's supposedly in her "sunset years", mom's not remotely dignified, as I always assumed happened when people hit some indeterminate age threshold (around 45?). Neither is cousin Bobbi. Those two seem more like wacky preteens when they're together, gossiping and teasing and generally jib-jabbering non-sensically and being awkwardly crude.
This morning, I awoke to the following facebook message from Cousin Bobbi. Alcoholic brain damage will not get rid of this one.
"Your mother is grossing me out with 'honeymoon' talk. All I can hear and visualize is the sound of loose skin slapping...kind of like the sails on a boat before they catch wind! I must have a talk with her to keep this old fart honeymoon stuff to herself!"
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