Someday, I will turn 90 (Optimist, I know. Thinking positive thoughts that I will live to be a crotchety, nasty, evil, old 90-year-old hag). On February 6, 2062, when I reach that magical 100 minus 10 number and my three children find themselves knocking on the door of senior discounts, I will sit in the back of Miss-Miss's nuclear-powered, flying mini-van and pester my kids to death while they drive me to my blow-out birthday party. Said party will be complete with male strippers, kegs of root beer, and all my sorority sisters in their motorized wheel chairs. The cops are going to get called, I can feel it!
On the way to my 90th birthday party, the following dialog will, I assure you, ensue:
Me: Miss-Miss! I dropped my dentures on the floor! Can you get them for me?
Miss-Miss: No, Mom! Can't you see I'm flying?!?
5 minutes later...
Me: Where's my Ensure? Can one of you reach my Ensure? It's in the other cup holder.
J-man: No, Mom, I can't get to your Ensure. Just wait until we get there.
2 minutes later...
Me: Oh, dang. I've lost my glasses. Have any of you seen my glasses? Bubba? Do you know where they are?
Bubba: Mooooom! They're on the floor. You took them off and dropped them down there. Don't you remember? Just reach down and put them on.
Me: Oh, honey, this arthritis doesn't let me reach down that far.
Bubba: Well, wait until we get there! I can't get them right now. Sigh
1 minute later...
Me: Is that a firetruck? Oh, my! Look at that firetruck! I wonder where it's station is located?
Miss-Miss: I don't know, Mom. I have no clue.
Me: Well, you live here. Let's follow it!
Miss-Miss: We caaaan't! We have to get you to your party! We don't have time for firetrucks!
30 seconds later...
Me: You know, Chick-fil-A is that way. Are we going down a hill? We are going down a hill. Can we go to Chick-fil-A?
All three kids: NO!
I can't wait. It's going to be awesome! I'll be 90, they'll be 55 and 57 and losing. Their. Shit.
Hee hee!
Who Am I?
- Coal Miner's Granddaughter
- I am the 40-ish granddaughter of Frank (see header), a fiddle-playing coal miner from West Virginia. I was born and raised in said state and have lived in Georgia since 1994. I have a wonderful husband, three beautiful kids, one cranky cat, and one anxiety-ridden dog.
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Confessions of a Coal Miner's Granddaughter by Coal Miner's Granddaughter is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License.
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11 comments:
That's probably the most BRILLIANT coping mechanism I've ever heard of - imagining that someday your kids will have to put up with you the way you put up with them! :-)
It was wonderful talking to you yesterday. You are every bit as cool "in person" as you are in the blog. What you see is what you get!
Peace - D
LOL.
Hahaha. Genius!
Oh darling you are a GENIUS!!!
This is so funny!
Speaking of Chick-Fil-A you must see this!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NsJHqstPuNo&feature=email
How long have you been fantasizing about this? A long time, I'd wager. :)
Hahahahahahaha!
I look forward to that time, too!!!
Won't you also be screaming for them to hurry up and get there because you have to PEEEEEE!!!!!??? Or are you assuming you'll be in Depends at that point? lol
Sounds like paybacks are hell at the CMG house!
I love it!
That might just get me through the next car ride from hell;)
My husband and I warn the kids all the time of how we are going to torture them when they're stuck caring for us. You go, old lady!
RiverPoet - It was great talking to you, too!
MetalMom - Totally!
Avitable - BTW? I'm totally doing this to you if I'm ever in your backseat. :)
Other Heather - Thanks, hon!
NATUI - Oh, a very long time.
Sybil Law - Birds of a feather, hon!
Giggle Pixie - HA! I will so totally be in Depends. Colostomy bag, baby!
Robin - Revenge is a dish best served in the backseat. :)
MommyCosm - Yeah!
Patois - It's always good to have the torture plan in place. :)
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