my foul-mouthed mother
A few days after a certain blog post back in November, my mother phoned.
Caller ID told me who it was, which she knows, but she still began the call by announcing herself, "This is your foul-mouthed mother!" And then she burst into laughter.
She was referring to this:
My girlfriend wrote me to say that she had seen the exact opposite of how she imagined "Hilary and Brian at dinner."
(Hilary is my mom's name and Brian is the B in BK.)
She was right, too. I think she may have been present for the following dinner exchange:
Caller ID told me who it was, which she knows, but she still began the call by announcing herself, "This is your foul-mouthed mother!" And then she burst into laughter.
She was referring to this:
Back in college, I had a girlfriend who was writing me from her summer job as a waitress. She said she was serving a middle-aged woman and her teenaged son, who apparently had nothing to say to each other. They didn't look angry or uncomfortable. Just not interested in talking.bad words
Well, I can't find where it is, but somewhere on the Mises.org/blog rules, we are advised to avoid language we wouldn't use in front of our mothers. I can accuse my own mother of many things, but linguistic prudery is not one of them. At least, not now, and not since I was a teenager, more or less.
@$$#*|&!
My girlfriend wrote me to say that she had seen the exact opposite of how she imagined "Hilary and Brian at dinner."
(Hilary is my mom's name and Brian is the B in BK.)
She was right, too. I think she may have been present for the following dinner exchange:
Hilary: Are you thesis or antithesis?Anyway, I'm sure that the Mises.org blog keeper wouldn't object to any of that. What he would object to is what my mother forwarded me tonight in email:
Brian: I'm synthesis!
Hilary: Oh, that's what they all say ...
2 Comments:
I would really, really love to meet your mom.
[A followup note from the woman herself:]
A weird experience I had earlier this week. From the office I checked my voicemail at home. The only message I had was an anonymous peal of fiendish laughter. I was very puzzled and a little spooked, until I remembered that earlier in the day I had a message from Eric. He said, "On your voicemail, you sound very British! What's with that?" so I called from my cellphone to hear my own message. I guess I just "cracked up" when I heard my own demure, polite message . . .
(I told my officemate, "My laughter was almost demonic". She said, "Yeh, that's you all right!")
Post a Comment
<< Home