The Adnostic

When are you coming home? When will we see you again? When are you coming home? When will we see you again?

Are you noticing a pattern? My usual answer to this series of parental inquisition is, "I dunno." But then I realized that Sunday was Mother's Day and that I would win the Worst Daughter of the Year Award if I didn't head up the 405 to the Sauna Fernando Valley to see the units and miscommunicate with Mom and watch Deadwood with Dad. (Ever see an actor perform a monologue while receiving oral sex, all the while the man who washed your bottom when you were two is sitting in the chair next to you? I'm surprised more families don't spend quality time like that together, and Ian McShane totally deserved that Golden Globe)

I called Mom earlier in the week to tell her I would be coming up too see her on Sunday.

Mom: What will you want for dinner?
Me: I dunno. (please refer to pattern afore mentioned above)
Mom: Well, what do you want to make for dinner?
Me: (laughter)
Mom: Oh. Never mind.

You see, I was once very excited to make dinner for my family and make Mom proud of my prowess in the kitchen. I made a chicken curry stir-fry. It turned out well, but my mother complained about smell the following day and ended up lighting incense to mask the stench of curry. My mother hates incense and I haven't cooked in my parents' kitchen since. Heck, her oven is sill a mystery to me.

I told Jen about this and she was bewildered as to why I wouldn't cook for my family, especially on Mother's Day when it was clear that my cooking is exactly what she wanted for her special day. Once again, I was a prime candidate for the Worst Daughter of the Year Award. I hate that award. The bouquet of guilt that comes with the prize package will crush your very soul.

So today I called Mom to ask her if she still wanted me to cook dinner tomorrow.
Mom: Yes.
Me: Okay. I was thinking of making Pot Roast Pasta. Do you think you have two pounds of bottom round roast in the freezer?
Mom: I'm not sure.
Me: Well, find out because you better start defrosting that thing now.
Mom: Yes dear.

After I got off the phone Jen mentioned that I talked to my Mom like she was an 87 year old (my candidacy renewed). So I explained to Jen about the freezer of meat.
Me: My mom has a full sized freezer in the garage. It is as big as our fridge/freezer combined, and it is filled with meat.
Jen: Why would anyone do that? Why doesn’t she just buy food as she needs it?
Me: She buys meat on sale and then freezes it until she needs it. This is why she is the biggest Jew of us all.
Jen: Think of it this way - when she kicks off, you'll be rich.

That award is all mine.