The Last Time I Talked To My Mother...Was Today.

My mom has some outrageous ideas for my blog.

And please picture that when I say "outrageous" I am using a really funny voice that is dripping with sarcasm and waving my hands in the air like it's some sort of mad house effect.

Mom just tends to feel (and feel sorry for me, because I'm quoting here) that "your world view tends to be so limited, Melissa, since all you do is stay inside the house and hang out with babies."

Ya know...when your 50+ year old mom tells you that your worldview is limited because you just aren't living enough, well, it makes a girl want to re-evaluate. KnowwhatI'msaying? I mean, if I didn't want to kill myself before, I'm pretty sure I do now. So thanks for that, mom.

Unfortunately since she reminded me of my boring existence things haven't really picked up, so I'm stuck doling out old stories that she reminded me of today when we were on our way to the grand opening of ROSS.

(Oh, wait. I went to the grand opening of ROSS...well, if that isn't blogworthy I don't know what is. Wow! My life is pickin' up even as we speak.)

Mom and I find it fascinating when Meridith and Bubba tell stories about their childhood. Not that they didn't have a good childhood, they did. It was just...different. Whereas I was raised by a mom and dad and I had a dog, they were raised by a mom and dad and had 12 dogs. Every single dog they ever owned was struck by a car. I kid you not. Every single dog. And it's not like they lived along I-65, they lived 14 miles out in the country. But still...every dog. Dead. By car.

Except for the one episode where their mom paid for a Cocker Spaniel to bring home to them, just so Meridith could have a dog to take to show and tell in her 2nd grade class. But once their mom got home she called my mom down to their house and told her, "Annette, maybe I just don't know dogs very well, but this doesn't look like any Cocker Spaniel I've ever seen." My mom said it was the smallest, runtiest, short haired black mut she had ever seen. It was the opposite of a Cocker Spaniel in every way. Within 24 hours the dog had died from worms and Meridith never did get to take it to show and tell.

Even as I'm sitting here typing this - and laughing at their pain - I just asked Meridith what that dog's name was, to which she replied, "It didn't have a name...we never had time to name it. It died right after we got it home."

Aaaahhhh...good times.

Speaking of Meridith and Bubba. Their grandpa's name was Al. He was kind of mean. I can say that since he's passed on now, and trust me, Meridith agrees the man was cranky. But it reminds me of the time my mom went to visit Al and his wife, Margaret, when they were getting older and they served her a piece of cake. Her hands were full, with her purse and and a plate full of cake, so Margaret said, "Al, take her cake from her for a minute so she can sit her purse down and cross her legs." To which Al replied, "What? She can't cross her legs."

Mom said she has never wanted to jump a senior citizen so bad in all her life.

And that, my lovelies, is called "thinking outside the box."

Sitting inside the house all day with two babies is fine, as long as you can reflect on other people's misery and post it online.

I love this job.