Insert Foul Language Here

Oh, dear Mother. You are at it again. I believe I have only posted once or twice on my mother, and this is partially due to the fact that I did not see her all summer. I live about two miles from her, however when Chicken is gone I tend to avoid her at all costs. I will not bore you at this time with horrifying tales of parental madness, I merely wish to share a few amusing tales that have a common and recurring theme.

Today my mother called me and had her "Oh my life is so trying and difficult and it's mostly due to the horrible job you do as a daughter" voice. She mentioned that she had not been around this summer due to some issues that had come up. Shit! I thought I was just doing an effective job of projecting the "stay the fuck away from me you worthless whore" vibe. During this conversation she indicated that she wanted me to attend a counseling session with her at her church on Friday. Oh fuck me sideways. Not again.

See, my mother has a history of taking me to "experts" to tell me that what I am doing is wrong. However, all these attempts at salvation have failed miserably. The first attempt was in high school when my mother realized that I was sexually active. She brought me to a gynecologist to get examined and put on the pill, or so she told me. In the examination room she instructed the doctor to tell me that being sexually active before marriage and at my age was immoral. I will never forget the look of shock and "what the fuck are you talking about" on the poor doctor's face. He told her that his job was not to tell women about the morality of their activities and that a pastor or priest would be suitable for that purpose. Strike #1, mom.

The next time, again during high school, was when I refused to go to church. I was going through a rough patch and did not feel that church was the answer. So my mother made an appointment with the pastor of the church and drug me to his house to be saved. He talked with me outside his home, he was kind and listened to what I was going through. This is what he said:

"I wouldn't want to go to church either if I was in your position. I'd be pretty pissed off at God. I bet that to you, life is one great big shit sandwich and every day is another bite."

I wrote the shit sandwich quote down on a piece of paper and taped it to my wall. It was there for a long time, and whenever things got bad it comforted me. At least there was someone else in the world that understood how I felt. Strike #2, mom.

The last story took a good long while to complete, however it was the most beneficial thing my mother ever did for me. My mother took me to a shrink when I was about 16 years old. This woman became a surrogate mother to me. I saw her off and on until she moved to North Carolina. I still miss her. Where's the point in this, you ask? Well my mother took me to this woman to fix me and show me how wonderful my mother was and how bad I was acting. Almost ten years later, when I moved back to California in 1999, I started seeing my favorite shrink again. I was living with my mother and stepfather temporarily. My shrink was appalled. Her quote:

"I'd rather see you living on welfare than living with your mother."

Yes, my mother is THAT special. Strike #3. Now, my shrink disapproved of my mother for years. But this is the best quote I can remember. It's like the shit sandwich, something that I will never forget. So today, please think happy thoughts for me as I get saved from myself and all the evil that I do. I'll be sure to update everyone on the results.