Stories about Mother

The Vixen At The Senior Center

Wednesday, February 6th, 2013

The Senior Center. Can You Spot The Vixen Who Is ‘A Bitch’?

It’s 2:30 PM and I am taking a nap. I am sleeping so hard and deep that I am slobbering on my bed pillow.

Here is why I have slung myself across the bed and slammed into sleep in mid-afternoon when I should be working.

It’s because today I went to lunch at the local Senior Center.

Why? Because the lady who took care of my mother when she was ill, is between jobs.

“I’m scared,” she says. “I need a good Care-Giving job or I won’t be able to keep living in your mother’s house and I am even having trouble buying food.”

One of the problems with Care-Giving is that the old people you care for, often die. Then, you ‘re out of a job.

But, guess what.

I have a ‘Brilliant’ Idea.

“Let’s go to the Senior Center for lunch,” I say. “Mom went there and she had friends and I know some of the people. We can talk to folks and tell them how wonderful you are and that you’re looking for work. They may know someone who needs your help.”

Sonja thinks this is a terrific idea.

However, she can only go this Friday and that is the day they are having beef tostadas, rice, beans and a kiwi. Ugh. Oh well. I was hoping for a fried chicken day with mashed potatoes and fancy iced cake.

“OK,” I say. “They have generally great food and it’s only $4.00. Let’s do it.”

It is 80 degrees and Sonja wears a pink fluffy coat that pleases her platinum blonde hair. She is from Michigan and it’s winter and in winter you wear coats.

Sonja is a very pretty woman.

The lady at the desk in the Senior Center takes my $4 for Senior Lunch and says to me, “Are you a Senior?”

I fall in love with her.

I almost want to pay her the extra dollar for the Younger People’s Lunch.

We survey the room but are directed to a table at the back. The bridge players get the best tables.

On our way to our table I introduce Sonja to the Man Who Runs The Place.  I mention that she is looking for a Care-Giver’s position. He asks for her card.

I whisper, “He knows everyone here. He can get you work.”

When we get to our table it is our misfortune that we are sitting with a man who yells every word he says and slaps every sentence with a blistering laugh and a holler.

I get a headache almost immediately.

We introduce ourselves to our table mates and mention that Sonja was my mother’s Wonderful Care-Taker and that she is now looking for work.

A woman I happen to know at the next table, over hears me and trots to my side.

Grabbing the back of my chair, Kelli leans toward Sonja and says, “You’ll never get any work here. The Guy Who Runs The Place is having a ‘Thing’ with Carrie Smith. She gets all the work.”

Really?

“Who is Carrie Smith?” I ask.

Kelli hisses and points to a plain, older and stooped lady at another table. She doesn’t look like a vixen to me.

“She’s a Bitch!” Kelli hisses. “She’s dumber than a sack of rocks!” (more…)

Mother Gets Lucky

Wednesday, January 23rd, 2013

Mother’s Rat Hole Mobile Home

My mother calls my brother in law Dr. Ron, on the phone.

“I think I’m having a stroke,” she says. “Can you come over?”

Dr. Ron flies out his door like he’s being sprayed by a strong water hose.

My mother is in her middle 80’s and Ron considers her his mother.

When he arrives at her crappy mobile home, he practically throws himself through the ratty screen door.

“Margaret!” he yells. “Margaret!”

Ron is spinning around in the front part of the trailer and through the kitchen, making a circle back into the living room.

He looks up and there is Mother bumping along down the hallway toward him. She lurches sideways and hits one wall, rights herself and bangs hard on the opposite wall. Then, whoops, she’s almost down flat on the floor and up, again. Now, she’s on her hands and knees.

(more…)

Old Ladies Sex Lives

Wednesday, January 9th, 2013

Lexi’s Hairdresser Shirley, Both Daydreaming Perhaps?

Shirley is in her 80’s and I have known her for awhile. Today, I’ve taken Lexi to her shop to get a haircut.

‘How are you and the new boyfriend?’ I ask.

I’m remembering when I last saw her, maybe 6 months ago, when she was rhapsodizing over a man she had met on the golf course.

‘Oh, he’s gone!” she says, with a hint of distain.

“I have a new one.’

The former man, she says, was cheap. He made her pay for her own meals and everything else.

“I wasn’t brought up to be that way with a man.”

I’m trying not to gasp but the air gets stuck in my throat. I choke a bit.

Shirley is widowed and has had a number of boyfriends since I have known her in the past year or two.

“This boyfriend,” Shirley is saying, ” has a beautiful 40 ft motor home, lives in alaska part time, and adores me.”

As she washes the suds out of Lexi’s hair, she looks at me and says, “I’m retiring! I’m closing the shop and traveling with this lovely man and my little dog!”

I’m impressed. I haven’t had a boyfriend for years and Shirley, in her 80’s, with all the massive single female competition, always has one.

My Mother also had boyfriends into her very late 80’s. Actually, right up until the time she died.

There was Hoover, a handsome guy my age, a Basque man who lived on a ranch. In her 80’s, he adored my mother and thought her the most beautiful and sexy woman in existence. (more…)


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