Always Something There to Remind Me

My mom and I have a good relationship, well, we usually do. It's been tough but over the years we've been able to learn how to like each other. Unless there is a full moon. No, Mom doesn't turn into a werewolf but she may as well. It seems like every time the moon changes phases, she goes a little nuts---like today.



I called her in the morning and she was a bit cranky, which was strange considering Mom is a morning person. A few hours later I called her back and began complaining about how the dog has lost weight. Au contraire, ma mère, his weight is exactly the same as when we adopted him. "I don't care what the scale says---he's too skinny. He's lost about 3 pounds." Yes, the person who wears readers on top of her glasses would be able to tell that he's lost 3 pounds. Bloody hell. Apparently my arguing annoyed her because she laid into me about something I did in 2003. That's right, 6 years ago. Wow, talk about holding a grudge. I'm lucky she didn't blame me for the Black Death and the French Revolution. It was like being a kid all over again, with her pissed off at my dad and taking it out on me. She totally employs guerilla tactics, as in she'll yell at me over the phone while I'm at work. She knows I can't lose it at work so she goes for the jugular. Kudos to you, sneaky Madre o' mine.
I don't want to get upset with her because I know she isn't feeling well, but sometimes it's too much. So I won't call her back. I'll let Mama Oz get over her wolfiness, then maybe we can talk.