Ma, He’s Looking at Me!


My brother drove here from Michigan to spend time with us over the Easter weekend. One of the things he really likes to do while here is
bowl and eat at the Waffle House. So after we all went bowling, we headed over to my mom’s apartment to pick her up so she could join us for lunch.

My husband loaded her into the front seat which meant that brother John had to get into the back seat with me. Off we sped and I noticed that John was giving me “the look.”

“Ma, he’s looking at me. Make him stop,” I joked.

John gave me a grin and pushed his foot over toward my side of the car. “Ma, he’s over on my side now. Make him get over on his side,” I complained.

Mom looked out the window and ignored us while she blissfully picked her nose. John leaned forward and said, “Mom, stop picking your nose. Don’t you shake hands with that hand? Use a kleenex.” He settled back in his seat and farted.

“Ewww, Mom, John just farted. Open the window. I’m dying back here.”
“Did not!”
“Did too!”

“What did I miss?,” Mom shouted happily. Nothing tickles her more than someone passing gas.

My husband just stared ahead straightfaced, clutching the wheel and wondering for the umpteenth time what he had gotten himself into when he met me.

It’s nice to know during these days of global warming, terrorist threats, armed conflicts around the world, and rising gas prices that there are still chances to return to simpler times and just be a kid again.

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