Happy Mother's Day

Like many mammals, I love my mother [or mutti, as I called her to the chagrin of my 2nd year German teacher]. I have many memories--some bad, some good, and the rest I've forgotten.

My mutti when she was around my age.

For Mother's Day I'd like to tell you one of my favorite recollections of my mother.

Despite the driving age in my home state being 14, my parents wouldn't let me drive. In high school I had school friends, but no afternoon, weekend, hangout, phone call, or cruising around friends. This meant I read a lot, had nothing to be grounded from, and mostly hung out with my mom cooking or watching Lifetime and Hallmark movies.

But when it came to boys, I had a crush on the beautiful ginger son of my 5th grade daycare teacher. He was three years older than me, but only a grade ahead thanks to homeschooling. Anyway, my awesome mom became my cruising friend. She helped a daughter out.

That's right. I had no wheels of my own, so on the way home from church my awesome mom would do drive-bys past his house. It was fun sometimes to see his car at home, but other times she'd drive really slow and shout, "Is he home!?"

Thank goodness for my mom. I'm way too apathetic and lazy now to ever do something like that on my own,  but it was fun when I was 15.

Happy Mother's Day to my sweet, weird, funny mom who has cooking, baking, and sewing skills that I look forward to every time I go home!

Blogging the depths of the abyss, 
[a]

Eye Rolling

In 4th grade I got in trouble for rolling my eyes at my elementary school librarian. She was old, rude, and lecturing us about something. We were all sitting at the tables in the library while she went around and yelled at each of our tables. When she made eye contact with me to say something, I turned away and rolled my eyes. Major child-adult faux pas. She got even more pissed. My excuse? Well, duh, my eyes hurt and I had to roll them to make them feel better.

Liz Lemon rolling her eyes

Now I try to be a bit more discrete about my eye rolling now, but sometimes I just can't help myself.

I've started judging dates by how many eye rolls. However, that means I have to come up with a way to judge how many is "too many". Is twelve too many? It seem like a lot, but holy shit some of my dates are lame. Perhaps once I get to five I should just get up and leave.

Blogging the depths of the abyss, 
[a]