Tuesday, September 11, 2007
My Innocent Lil' Japanese Mom, Bless Her Heart
My mother can be so seemingly naive, sometimes, that you would think she's handi-capable (yes, I'm attempting to be P.C.) with slight mental retardation.
Remember the Steve Martin film, "Parenthood?" I had watched that at home with both of my parents. During the scene when the power goes out and a kitchen drawer is rummaged through for a flashlight, a "battery powered shoulder massager" is revealed in hand when the lights come back on (I'm drawing a blank on which actor whips it out, but it looks much like the one in the photo, above).
The young daughter asks, "Mommy, what is that?"
Mommy hesitates in her answer. "It's . . . an ear cleaner."
"Well?" my mother asks us. "What is that?"
"Uh, Mom." I hesitate, too, before answering. "Well . . . you don't put it in your ear."
This is the same woman who, after my brother had told our family that he had gotten his girlfriend pregnant, asked "Well, how did this happen?"
The amazement and disbelief in her tone of voice, tinged with impatience, was not faked, bless her heart.
The are four of us, all siblings counted, that my mother bore. I wanted to respond with equal amazement.
"Mom, what, were you knocked out, unconscious, each time that you conceived? Did Dad have to drug you to have sex?"
One of my more memorable, former roommates taught me that Southern women can get away with almost any thinly veiled insult or criticism by sugarcoating it with the quick addendum of 'bless her heart!'
My mother can be such a clueless lil' thing, bless her heart!