An Old Conversation With My Dear Mother From When I Was Pregnant
My Mother: What are you doing?
Me: Eating cheese and sprouted grain crackers.
My Mother: Sickening. You should be eating Triscuits.
Me: Why, they’re probably loaded with GMOs.
My Mother: Right. If you say so. You’re in a fine mood.
Me: Well, I’m all alone and I can’t leave because I cannot tie my fucking shoes.
My Mother: You can’t be serious.
Me: I have been trying for 20 minutes.
My Mother: Can’t you wear boots?
Me: They don’t fit any more.
My Mother: Slippers?
Me: I’m not wearing slippers in the snow.
My Mother: So you are just going to sit there?
Me: Yes.
My Mother: Well, you’re in luck.
Me: Why is that.
My Mother: Because I am going to give you something to do.
Me: Please, not now, Mother.
My Mother: Yes, now. I need your help.
Me: What is it.
My Mother: I have this little… symbol… on this motherfucking cell phone and I don’t know how to get rid of it.
Me: (Chewing) Is it in the shape of an envelope?
My Mother: Oh, I don’t know.
Me: Well, look at it, Mother.
My Mother: Oh, Jesus.. Yes, I suppose it’s an envelope.
Me: Relax. It’s called a text message.
My Mother: Well how do I motherfucking get rid of it.
Me: You do realize that you are the only one left on Earth who doesn’t know this.
My Mother: Jess, I’m not in the mood.
Me: Fine.
(10 minutes later, after teaching my mother how to retrieve this text message)
Me: Well, what does it say already?
My Mother: “It’s going down tonight.”
Me: Jesus, Mother, you sure have some rough friends.
My Mother: This is from no friend of mine. I never give this number out. To anybody.
Me: Well, I guess it’s a wrong number.
My Mother: Of course it’s a wrong number, Jessica.
Me: Well, then let’s erase it.
My Mother: I don’t know how to motherfucking erase it.
Me: I know you don’t.
(15 minutes later, after I teach my mother how to erase it)
My Mother: Thank you.
Me: You’re welcome.
(30 minutes later)
Me: Yes, Mother. What is it now.
My Mother: What are you doing?
Me: I’m eating sprouted grain crackers and cheese.
My Mother: Still?
Me: I’m fucking pregnant Mother, what else should I do?
My Mother: Well, I need you to set the trough aside.
Me: Why.
My Mother: There’s another one of those fucking envelopes on my cell phone.
Me: Did you retrieve it?
My Mother: Yes, Jessica. Please do not patronize me.
Me: Well… What does it say?
My Mother: “It’s going down tonight.”
Me: Again?
My Mother: I don’t know Jessica. It didn’t say again.
Me: Weird. I wonder if they rescheduled whatever it is, or if these guys are really productive.
My Mother: I don’t fucking know Jessica.
Me: Well, what are you going to do?
My Mother: I erased it. That’s what I fucking did!
Me: Did it say who it was from?
My Mother: Yes. It did. It said, The German Club. And it was signed VA.
Me: Like the VA hospital?
My Mother: I don’t know, Jessica. Like someone’s initials.
Me: Hmmm. Maybe it's a Nazi group that's headquartered in the V.A. hospital. Maybe they were too hopped-up on their meds to bring it down before, so now, it’s going down for real.
My Mother: Frankly I don’t give a shit if goes down or not. I just want them to stop leaving me messages.
Me: Well, unless you want me to call them, there’s nothing I can do for you.
My Mother: All right then.
(30 minutes later, phone rings)
Me: (chewing) Yes?
My Mother: Well, are you ready for some more drama?
Me: Having a mother like you, I have learned to always be ready for some more drama.
My Mother: There was another message.
Me: And what did it say this time?
My Mother: “It’s going down tonight.. Big time…” And it was signed again by the German Club with those same initials, VA.
Me: Well, Mother, I wonder if this is one of those red flag situations where you should do something. I mean on one hand it seems ridiculous but at the same time, what if it’s not?
My Mother: Well even if I thought it was indicated to do something, I can’t.
Me: Of course you can.
My Mother: No, I can’t. I already erased it.
Me: Well, Mother, guess what… Even if you did erase it, I’m sure it’s still on record somewhere.
My Mother: That makes no sense whatsoever, Jessica.
Me: You just don’t understand technology.
My Mother: Fine… Well, maybe it is a red flag. Maybe I should get involved…
Me: I think might be indicated, Mother. Just in case. I mean, if something does go down, won’t we feel awful?
My Mother: I suppose you’re right. Ok, I’ll tell you what, darling. I’ll call the Feds... And then I’ll call you back.
Me: Don’t you think you should call the police first?
My Mother: Darling, in a situation like this, you always call the Feds. I do hope you know this. You never call the local police. Unless someone is bleeding on your carpet, you always call the Feds.
Me: Good to know.
(15 minutes later)
My Mother: Well, the Feds weren’t interested. They said, “Don’t worry. They’re probably just getting ready for a big party,” and I said, “Well, if that’s your idea of a party, then that’s your business.”
Me: Well, you did your part, Mother. Now, if we hear of any V.A. German Club Massacres, at least we will know that fair warning was given.
-JLK