Reasons Why I Still Need My Mom

as we age, our moms become less “mom” like and more friend like.  they’re still willing to offer you advice (even if you don’t want it) and comfort you if need be.  alas, it dawned on me this evening that there are random reasons why i definitely still need my mom.

  1. she is the only person who knows that i do not, can not and probably will not ever remember when day lights savings time is.
  2. to continue on 1, she’s the only person who reminds me to change my clock
  3. she tells me how to get out the random stains that i never remember how i got out of my clothes
  4. she knows that i practically skipped fractions in elementary school, so she helps me (see cooking)
  5. she knows that sound it out doesn’t work for me if i can’t spell it because silent letters are an achilles heel, so she knows to give me a hint
  6. she knows that i leave things in random places and returns them to their rightful spot because if she doesn’t, my keys will be in the bathroom and my glasses in the fridge

i mean, my mom does those loving things that moms do all the time.  she listens, she sternly tells me when i’m being a jackass, she gives me a kiss on the cheek before she goes somewhere…etc.

but my mom, she has to put up with me as her last offspring, jumbled mess of DNA.  this is still a 3/4 the time job for her.  you see, my sister is the golden child/super star.  my brother has been out on his own for years and listens to no one but himself, so mom stopped trying.  my fake sister lives in san diego.  and she’s still got me (hey, free rent and food) at home.  and i’m a mess.  i lose things that i had 3 seconds ago.  i blurt out random things.  i backwardsly ask questions.  i get super frustrated when i’m over stimulated, but i have to have constant stimulation in order to work.  she’ll walk in the house and i’ll be reading while watching the tv with my ipod on.  my mind goes 209mph all the time and she gets to hear the stream of consciousness at the drop of a dime.  i run into walls.  i drop dishes.  i don’t pay attention to everything all the time.  i ask random, out of the blue “hypothetical” questions.  basically, i’m a never ending puzzle mixed with some whirlwind.  my mom, bless her poor soul.

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