my mom rode with me to harley's party on saturday. and i don't know what it was about the experience--well, yes i do--she annoys the hell out of me!--that makes me want to slit my wrists! i understand the need to fill silences with noise (i do that), but can we please be more selective with the content of the noise?

this is a usual phone conversation--and i use the term 'conversation' loosely.

mom: hey shauna, what are y'all doing?

me: oh, not much.

mom: are all the kids home from school yet?

me: yes, it's 6 o'clock

mom: oh. what are y'all having for dinner?

me: um, i hadn't thought about that yet. i'm too busy cleaning pink lipstick off the dog's face.

mom: (apparently not listening) oh. well, you won't believe this. the squirrels have nested in don's (my step dad) truck again. he went to start his truck and when it wouldn't, he raised the hood and found chewed wires everywhere!--and the squirrel just looked up at him. they caused $1800 in damages this time. so now we've got traps all over the yard.

me: oh my god--i hope you're not going to kill the squirrels! if you want them dead, just bring them to my neighborhood. someone will surely run them over. my neighborhood is known for having the most dead squirrels on the streets.

mom: (still not listening and clearly has an agenda) well, have you had your mammogram yet? (see?)

me: (rolling my eyes and sighing) no. i had to reschedule again. mom, there's nothing wrong with my boob. i should have never told you there was green goo coming out of it. if the doctor was uber concerned, don't you think she would have gotten me in sooner than 4 weeks? i don't think dr robbins is too worried about it. but yes, i will do it.

mom: well, all i'm saying is peggy at work had green stuff coming out of her boob and it turns out, she had a tumor in her neck. she's okay now--the doctor gave her medicine to dissolve the tumor and the green stuff went away.

me: mom! who all are you telling about my boob?! i don't even know who this peggy person is and you're going around talking about me and my defunct boob with random strangers?

mom: no. just peggy, and mary, and susan. but they know you.

me: how do they know me? from your stories about me?

mom: well, yes.

me: ugh. i gotta go. ethan is naked and is now peeing on the dog.

as i hang up the phone i hear her yelling, "don't forget to reschedule your..."

and that's just one example and no, i'm not exaggerating. so saturday, we're driving along on our way to dallas--me, my mom, my mother-in-law, and harley. my mom starts telling us the goings on of people at her work (whom we don't know!) as if it makes for interesting conversation. now granted, she does give us the back story on every one of the people, starting with their job description, their marital status, their hopes and dreams for the future, yada, yada, as if this might somehow make the story more interesting. it doesn't. several times i had to fight the wheel to keep from driving head first into an embankment--on purpose! but then i thought about harley and how she should really be given an opportunity to grow up and have issues of her own with her mother. oh, wait, that's me! i'm sure it won't be the same--i'm way more tolerable than my mother.

anyway, so the stories about people we don't know go on and on--and suddenly out of the blue--my precious and my now most favorite child said, "nana, we don't know these people you're talking about."

and the talking ceased (for the moment anyway). the sky opened up, the angels began to sing hallelujah and i'd never been more proud in my whole life. i had to fight back the laughter as i thought to myself (because lord knows i'd never say anything like this out loud!) children are the only people who tell the truth. and you know why that is? because they don't know any better.

my mom laughed and told harley how cute she was. and then she resumed the stories about people we don't know. well, it was nice while it lasted. then harley asked me to turn up the radio. to which i did, of course.

we survived the 30 minute drive to dallas--although it felt more like 6 hours--but we made it. and no one died from boredom.

my mom, god love her.