Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Thirteen photos for my mom
As y’all know, I decided the other day that I would put together some sort of photo montage for my mom for Mutti’s Day. (She hates it when we call her Mutti. I have no idea why.) Why not kill two birds with one stone and share those photos with you?
If you’ve seen some of ’em before, well . . . sorry.
First, you need to understand two things about my mom. First, she’s only happy if she has something to complain about. Second, she seems to rank me above all else. So to truly satisfy her, I’ll have to give her some of me, but not enough of me, and I’ll have to make the me I give her deficient somehow.
Bear with me. It’ll all make sense soon. To help you understand, for each photo, I’ll predict her response.
1. From our trip to Vancouver last summer . . .
“He’s wearing RED? Ach. And I can’t see his face. Jesus, Dougie, the photos you take.”
2. Another one from Vancouver.
“More red! Do I need to buy him shirts? What are you, so poor you can only afford one shirt? What’s he pointing at?”
3. Chris, Dean, and I. But my mother doesn’t know that.
“You send me pictures of strangers? Who are these people? I don’t know them from Adam! Why is your mouth open?”
4. Last year’s County Fair.
“A goat? Oh, Dougie, you think you’re so funny but I’m not laughing.
Why is he staring at me?”
5. Harris Beach.
“Such a nice smile. How come you’re not in this photo?”
6. Harris Beach again.
“Why is he making that face at me? He takes after you. Weird.”
7. Right before my hernia operation.
“Expendable? What, is that some kind of joke? And it’s red and black. Your taste is you-know-where. Here’s twenty dollars, buy yourself some shirts.”
8. Ming’s on Embarcadero, in Palo Alto, CA.
“Oy, he’ll become a shicker like Miltie. Dougie, what were you thinking?”
9. At home with Harmonica.
“Just what I wanted, a photo of you and a rat. And what’s with you — I thought you were exercising. You look fatter than your brother.”
10. Another Harris Beach photo.
“Now, that’s nice. I can smell the saltwater!”
11. And another.
“I can barely see Jacob. And he looks cold! You should make him zip up.”
12. Yet another.
“He looks so sad. What are you feeding him? And how come there aren’t more photos of you here?”
13. She wants more photos of me? Here you go, Mom.
“Thanks for nothing.”
What do you think, Sis?
***
Gotta comment? I got your lurve.
Shaina needz hugzez (lolhumanz?)
The incomparable Corn Dog. Read it.
Kate has friends in high places.
Tracy, do you honestly think some folks wouldn’t buy your book for fear there is too much sex?
You know Darla has a lot of photos left if we’re only up to Part 1c
Dean: time for writing? What’s that?
D.
hahahaha, you’ve got the jewish mother down pat. nice.
i suppose i oughta go post so you have something to linkylurve me about, huh?
I’ll give you ’til tomorrow. How’s that?
The last one scared me and I’m not easily scared.
Does she have an accent? Because I’m reading those with an Yiddishe accent. Poor woman’s a stereotype.
Oh and I like the photos, even with all that red in there.
I LOVED IT. I’m still laughing.
Loved the comments, Doug.
All the males in my family (husband, two sons, and brother-in-law) have the “expendable” shirt. I don’t have one, because I’m obviously not expendable. 🙂
I need one of those red shirts, except I need to change the second ‘e’ to an ‘a’.
CD: aw, stop pulling my leg 😉
Kate: only my poor characterization, I fear. Her accent is Bostonian.
Thanks, Tracy & Darla. Dean, you don’t need a shirt like that; it’s self evident!
Bostonian = Even better.
even when i do get 8 hours of sleep, i’m still tired.
i get lots of exercize, just walking to class is at least 15 minutes each way.
i think it’s more the stress…i dunno.
Okay, I know she hates black, but red? Since when? News to me.
#9 and #11 are classic comments; those are dead on.
#13…she will hate. “You couldn’t send me one where you look like a doctor?” Wait for it.
So you’re sending these to her how? If they aren’t in a gigantic, expensive (rich) frame, you might have wasted your time.
Oh, i don’t know; I figure she equates it with blood. And I can’t recall her ever wearing red.
I wear red all the time, and she has acknowledged it’s my color.