Shopping and Smooching

Mommie Dearest turned 85 years-old last week. It was an accomplishment worth celebrating. I mean, for a woman who has had cancer, a bunch of joints replaced, almost every non-vital organ removed, and an entire summer of near death experiences, getting to 85 is a pretty big deal.

Her circle of friends just sort of shrugged though. Eight-five, schmaety-five. She's relatively young compared to the people she lives with.  But to her it felt like a milestone. 

Every month her retirement community throws a fancy birthday dinner which she invited me to attend. I could have gone, but the idea was challenging to say the least. I understand that if I've inherited her genes of longevity I may live and eat among older people one day. For right now, though, I have a bit of trouble eating mushy, tasteless food in a setting that, while decorated in lovely, homey fashion, largely consists of smells and sights that do little to provoke a hearty appetite. 

Not entirely altruistically, I suggested taking her out to lunch instead. She happily accepted my invitation since she enjoys getting away from her retirement home and out in the 'real world.' Anna and I took her to Red Robin, not because of the elegant, fine dining, but because I knew she'd get a free ice-cream sundae, the staff would sing to her, and Parker would be her waiter. All those things would make her happy.

Mommie Dearest isn't a big eater but she found a cup of French onion soup on the menu and that struck her fancy. She ordered an obligatory side salad also. She was able to finish the soup but after a bite or two of salad declared herself far too full to finish. Of course this meant she had to have a 'to-go' box as she couldn't just leave it. What this really means is that the next time I'm at her apartment I'll toss the salad in the trash after it has become fuzzy and colorful.

Not surprisingly though, when her ice cream sundae arrived she smiled coyly through the birthday song and then dug in. Without offering to share a single bite, she finished the entire dish and never missed a beat.

"Never eat more than you can lift." Miss Piggy

Parker suggested that for her 86th birthday, they do keg stands together. She has no idea what a keg stand is (I admit I'm not entirely sure either) even after he explained it to her. She said she wasn't sure how well she could do one...but she was pretty good at smooching. 

Because somehow those two things must relate.

Mommie Dearest may be 85 but I'm pretty sure she still thinks of herself like this.

 

Which can't be all bad, I guess.

Her two favorite things these days seem to be smooching and shopping. I don't really want to be around for either but the least painful seemed to be shopping. I offered to take her to Target after lunch. 

Her excitement was palpable as she boarded the ride-on cart and threatened the very lives of  shoppers throughout the entire store. A small boy and his father walked by and as she whizzed past them I very seriously told the boy to run for his life. Somehow the fact that I was joking escaped them and they both looked at me as though I was the crazy one. We never saw them again. I suspect dad whisked the child off to safer establishments.

Mommie Dearest immediately made a beeline for the clothing department where she scoured the sale racks. At one point she said, "Look, jeans are 50% off!"  I reminded her she doesn't wear jeans.

Details.

By the time we finished the shopping trip, Anna had started to look like a jonesing drug addict and I was thinking of deliberately walking in front of the moving electric cart. 

My mother, however, was nothing short of ecstatic. True, I hadn't found her a smooching partner but I had provided her with the joy of finding sale items to enhance her appearance while she man hunts. 

In fact, Mommie Dearest was so happy she forgot to mention how bad my hair looked or how much weight she thinks I've gained. 

I guess if it brings her that much joy I can take her again. 

For her next 85th birthday.