HOT MAMA

Well, I went to see Mom today at the nursing home. She wasn't in her room but a quick check on my watch told me it was smoke hour so I bee-lined it to the smoke room, and, lo, there she was, head to head with her new friend Vi. Wait.... did I say new friend? I though Mom didn't make friends?! Let alone become friendly enough to be leaning towards her new friend (WHAT?) and gossiping.

Now, wait, dear reader, this is not a fiction story, this is the Gawd-Awful Truth!

"Hi Mom" I sing as I come in, feeling my way through the blue air in the six by six room. There are 4 people in the room, all puffing away and, wait for it, wait, wait for it....

Gossiping. NO, really! 'Did you hear about the old lady that went out on a stretcher today?' was one thing I [think] I heard as I peered through the smoke.

"Oh, is that you, thing one, I mean thing three?" (truth is she said our names but I digress)
"It's me, Mom" I answer. "Oh, Vi and I were just talking about you!". I'm thinking for the gazillianth time, what did they do with my real mother and I respond, "I hope it was all good!"

New-Friend-Vi responds "It was all good!" snerk, giggle, puff, slobber, "can you put my ciggarette out?" askes one of the human chimneys, DC. I dutifully put his cig out in the ashtray while Mom says "Mr. Thurmon pushes my wheel chair sometimes, don't you Mr. Thurmon? Is he in here?"

"Uh, yeah, he's sitting in the corner, Mom," I say. Mom says, sort of primping-like, "He pushes my wheel chair sometimes" again.

I look at the nurse standing guard at the door, questioning with my eyes, 'what did you do with my mother? I shrug, she shrugs.

"Mr. Thurmon, do you push Mom's wheel chair for her?" I ask the old guy. He has a four claw cane sitting beside him, never heard him say much although he did sing 'In the Garden' with me on Friday..

"Yuh" he says. I look at Mom, she's still primping. She actually LIKES it that Mr. Thurmon pushes her wheel chair! Oh, wait, there's more. Wait for it.....

"DC pushes my chair too sometimes," says this little old lady I don't really know with a smile on her face.

"I guess these men like pushing a good looking lady's chair down the hall, huh, Mom?" No answer, just more primping.

"Here, put my cig out and lets go back to the room". I guess the flirt moment was over. She calls out over her shoulder to her New-Friend-Vi, "See you in an hour, Vi!"

Maybe I'll wake up soon, maybe I don't want to.... The other day she said she hated womens sports. "Why?" asks the dumb daughter in ALL innocence. Answer? Because she doesn't like all that stuff flopping around (under their shirts) when they run. WTF? (Who are you, lady, cause you're not my prim and proper mother, you know, the one who scolds ME for having a POTTY mouth??!!)

Oh, I am so dumb, I ask her if she likes Men's sports. OMG, I got an answer. "Oh, yes, they have more interesting stuff flopping around."

Ok. Whatever. At least it was a happy visit!