for a rainy day

My Mother: The Crow Hunter

Sometimes I say things, and I can feel you all at home thinking, “I wonder how much of this is actually true.” Well, the answer is usually about 75%, but this one below is all true……… and also a pretty great snippet into how I came to be this person you all know and love survive.

An actual. real-life scene from my mother’s house:

Mason: (the wondrous nephew) “Can I go outside and play on the neighbor’s swing set?”

My mother: “Of course.”

Me: “Is that weird that you’re letting him use other people’s stuff?”

My mother: “No, they said is was okay. Their girls don’t play out there any more for some reason.”

Me: <looking around in confusion> “Hey mom, um……. so why in the world are there rusty kitchen knives all over your porch and yard?”

My mother: <without even f*%$ing hesitating> “Because of the crows.”

Me: <still looking at the battlefield of knives and not AT ALL satisfied with that answer> “Nope, I need more details please. Make sense this time.”

My mother: “Those are my throwing knives, Tracy.”

(this is all 100% true. I feel the need to pause just to re-iterate that)

Me: “I can tell you think that that’s an okay answer, mother. But I’m going to need more from you. Why do you have throwing knives for the crows?”

My mother: <exasperated that this needs to be explained, because she raised me better than this, and seriously what were they even teaching me in school if she was going to have to fill in all these glaring gaps in my education> “We have crows that keep landing here and scaring away all the other birds. And they’re mean and terrible and I hate them.” <smiling at me like the sweet angel-woman that she is> “So that explains the knives.”

Me: “…………………………………………….”

My mother: “They’re awful birds. And they’re also really smart and they have good memories, so I also scream insults at them and I tell them they’re ugly and I hate them and to go away.”

Me: “I keep waiting for you to say that you’re kidding, and I’m getting worried that you haven’t yet.”

My mother: “I don’t want crows. They’re trash birds. And jerks.”

Me: <picking up a throwing knife> “So you’re telling me that you come out here in the morning in your pajamas and you throw knives out into the yard and you scream insults?”

My mother: “Of course.”

Me: “Well, the good news is I think we solved the mystery of why those little girls don’t play outside any more.”

The End

Sooooooo, yeah. That’s my mom; the wondrous, majestic, beautiful and resplendent Jane-Fonda-look-a-like from whence I came. She is perfect and lovely, but that chick is also apparently armed so everyone tread lightly!

 

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This entry was published on November 8, 2017 at 7:47 pm. It’s filed under Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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