I Like Aquafresh
Mom and I did more than publicly demonstrate our inability to hold our tiramisu martinis while she was in town. We also demonstrated our ability to eat a meal every 90 minutes. I don't eat like this when she's not here, so I'm making her leave town today because I'm going to the beach next month and I will not be able to get into my bikini if we continue to eat like this. I love my mother, but I love my a$$ in my bikini even more.
Every few years, Mom and I retreat from the chaos of our lives. We leave the city behind and relax someplace where we can see the stars and buy stuff from local artisans. We've learned a lot about ourselves from these trips. We've learned that the word "rustic" when describing our accommodations means that we will be checking out two days early and so there had better be a hotel with a recognizable name close by. We've learned that we are very competitive when we play Scrabble and sometimes, people get hurt. The same is true for jigsaw puzzles.
We found an adorable b & b with limited internet access, while still offering adequate shopping and dining and HBO so that I could see who would get whacked on the Sopranos. I swore that I would not bring the computer or a man. Mom swore that she would not utter the phrases "Child, those shoes are going to give you bunions," or "is that a shirt or a dress?" for the entire weekend. Satisfied with the conditions, we reserved the weekend and opened a bottle of wine to celebrate.
When we arrived at the b & b, it seems that the entire home had been rented for a party. Naturally, we had not checked for an email confirmation before we left. The lovely proprietress offered us the cottage for the weekend. She noted that Bjorn, the man who had been staying there for several months was away for the weekend, but that he was away and she was absolutely sure that he wouldn't mind a bit.
We could not have been more thrilled. Staying in Bjorn's cabin made the trip so much more than a weekend getaway, it was now a mystery to solve. We charged ourselves with figuring out everything about Bjorn. We wondered why he had so much money in his checking account (I never would have looked at his bank statement had it not been in plain view in the dresser under his socks), but lived in a cottage. We scrutinized the contents of the pantry and promised that we would not drink his wine unless we left cash. We sniffed the tubes of spreadable fish in the refrigerator. I was especially fascinated with the toothpaste like tubes of fish paste. I can't think of any spreadable animals that come in tubes. We examined his toiletries and noted that he did not seem to own any dental floss. We even considered calling a friend of mine who is married to a man named Lars to see if he would translate Bjorn's Nordic notes.
Within thirty minutes, we had tired of Bjorn. We got dressed for dinner and found that the car had been parked in by guests attending the party in the main house. So, we crashed the party. We congratulated graduates and told people that I had grown up with the bride as we pushed our way to the bar. Over the fruit plate, I told Mom that I couldn't believe that she agreed to crash the party. Mom looked at me with narrowed her eyes, "I've been sneaking into movies, too." I love her. Also, now I understand how she sees so many movies. As the guests began making toasts, we talked the bartender out of a bottle of wine and slipped back to the cabin.
We watched a Lifetime movie entitled, "You Know This Kid is Going to Die, It's Only a Matter of Time." The ending was unpredictable and Mom and I cried. I dozed off on the couch while Mom got ready for bed. I was awakened by the string of profanities coming from the bathroom.
I kept my eyes closed and pretended to sleep. I even made soft snoring noises when Mom came into the room. She leaned over and kissed my cheek with fishy breath.
I left Bjorn $5 for the tube of fish paste. It was worth it.
PS: Mom presented me with the darling purse pictured above. It is a Dr. Seuss original. Mom told me that only someone as cute as I am can carry a purse like that. I'm posting a picture of it in all it's horrifying splendor, because if you subscribe to Mom's logic about cuteness, you can tell how adorable I must be.