Chicken Lady uncaged

My mother is a marvelous woman. Truly. When I sit back and look at what she’s done — going from a housewife to a nurse to having more degree initials after her last name than in her last name (and there’s 6 letters there, folks) — that’s impressive. But on top of that, she was a single mom raising 2 kids while she did it. And my sister and I were both honor roll, non-troublemaking kids.

But while mom may be the embodiment of Superwoman, she does have a kryptonite — and it shows when I bring a woman home to meet her. Or actually, even if I just mention a woman that I’m dating. When I do that, she falls from confident grace and knowledge and suddenly develops the voice of the Chicken Lady from “Kids in the Hall.”

(If you’ve never seen it, here’s a clip.)

Now, see, the truth of the matter is my mom has been trying to marry me off since I was 18. If I mention a female name within earshot of her (and it’s not my sister’s name), it’s rapidly a Chicken Lady “oooOOOOOOhh! Is that someone I need to kNOOOOw about?”

For that reason, bringing a woman home is a move that I can’t consider lightly. And truth be told, I’ve only brought 2 women home to meet mom.

The first person is my good friend Purplecar, back in the early 1990s. She didn’t have a schwanky online handle then, but did have ongoing problems with her fiance and problems at school and just needed to get away from it all. Break was coming up, so I asked mom if she could come out to the house (which was in the sticks). “Oooooooh! Sure ThiIIIINg.” I was doomed.

So, at dinner, they were chatting, and Purple said jokingly, “Well, yeah, if things fall through, I’ll just marry [Three].” Mom replied, “That’d be fine. You’d make a great daughter in law.” Purple had no idea of what hell she had just unleashed upon me. For the next few months, anytime that I spoke to mom, it was “So how’s [Purple]? Is there anything happening between you two?” “No mom, she was just kidding with you.” “OoooooooH!”

The next was Coroner Girl, who I dated for about a year in the 2001-02 era. There was no real mom drama that time around, but grandma, on the other hand, remarked on her job (forensic photographer) by saying, “Your job is easy. The people don’t move.” Thanks Grams. Oh, and the Nephew No. 2 jammed his hands in her pockets, for whatever reason. Smooove.

So here we are, in 2009. Cali and I have been getting along swimmingly. It feels very natural between us. The other day, she remarked that she was going to have to go to a surgery on Easter night (she’s in med school, and has to watch these things when she can). My family eats Easter Dinner around noon, so I asked her if she wanted to come along. We are going to have a family meal called “Patches,” which is basically Shanty Irish depression-era food. (Ham, potatoes, and dough rolled flat, boiled and cut into square “patches” — served almost like a stew. I’ll take pics and post later.)

But I gave Cali the warning before she answered: “Mom will think of you as her daughter-in-law as soon as you step foot on the property. And she will turn into the Chicken Lady when she talks to you.”

I think this piqued Cali’s curiousity — surely he’s joking. Surely, it won’t be as bad as he’s describing. Surely, he’s just overexaggerating.

No, I’m not.

In fact, I told Cali that I wasn’t even going to tell mom about her existence until about 2 weeks before Easter, because otherwise, anytime I spoke to mom until Easter, I would receive the Spanish Inquisition.

But mom called today, and brought up Easter plans. I was tired. I wasn’t thinking.

I told her that I was bringing a guest.

Here’s how that went down.

Mom: OooooooH! Is this someone I need to kNOOOOOOW about?
Me: She’s a girl I’m dating. Don’t get all worked up.
Mom: OooooooH! I wONNNNNn’t. So tell me about hEEEER.
Me: She’s younger than me. In med school. From California.
Mom: OooooooH! Have you really METTTT her?
Me: What? Uh, yeah. She’s going to med school HERE, mom.
Mom: OooooooH! That’s nIIIIICe.
Mom: Does she know I used to be a nUUUUURse?
Me: Yes mother, she knows.
Mom: Well, this is exCIIIIIIIITing! I can’t wait to tell your sIIIIIIISter.
Me: Jesus, mom, it’s just dinner. Don’t freak.
Mom: OooooooH! I’m gonna have to really clean the hOOOOOOUSe now that [Cali] is coming oVVVEr.
(and for the record, mom’s house on a bad day destroys 90-percent of America’s houses on a good day. She cleans from top to bottom daily.)
Me: Mom, don’t worry about it. She’s very laid back. She won’t care.
Mom: Got aLOOOOT of work to do. Yes. Yes. A lot of wOOOOORRRRk to do!
Me: Well, on that note, I’ll talk to you later.

*hangs up phone*
*Pause to reflect on what just happened*

Me to self: What the fuck did I just do?


9 Responses to “Chicken Lady uncaged”

  1. March 18, 2009 at 4:10 pm

    My problem is – I brought too many women home in the past for nefarious purposes. Now I bet my mom has a hard time thinking that my wife of 10 years isn’t just some floozy I’ll never see again.

  2. 2 Ian
    March 19, 2009 at 10:16 am

    Really? ” honor roll, non-troublemaking kid”? What the heck happened?

  3. March 22, 2009 at 8:41 am

    i think you should post pictures of all the women you dated.

  4. 4 Mike
    March 27, 2009 at 11:45 am

    Sounds like your Mom and my Mom should meet. they may be related.

  5. April 20, 2009 at 7:50 pm

    Funny, funny stuff. At least moms are good for a few chuckles. 🙂

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