Tribute to Mama

My mother gives the corniest, lamest jokes ever. When my friends come over, she sits with them and subjects them to her special brand of “girl talk”, completely oblivious to the trapped/tortured look in their eyes. She is inexplicably loyal to ALL of the soap operas manufactured by GMA 7’s “creative” team (and she gives me an injured look when I tell her she’s not doing her brain any favors). Yet she hates The Office (oh, the humanity!). Her cooking is – at best – uninspired. When I was a kid, she would make me recite monologues in front of a roomful of strangers, “for entertainment” (although whose, I still can’t for the life of me figure out). She has never, not once, lied to me and told me I have a good singing voice (no matter how hard I beg her to). When we get take-out, she tells us she doesn’t want anything, and then proceeds to finish my fries and half my burger. She can buy skinny jeans from normal people stores, no problem (I, on the other hand, only get condescending looks and long-suffering sighs when I try to shop in one). And you wouldn't know it from looking at her, but she can make risqué, non-PC comments with the best of them (of course, only my brother and I have the dubious honor of hearing said comments). Most importantly, she would not appreciate this post – AT ALL (not that she’d ever get to read it – I’m still trying to help her understand the mysterious inner workings of Microsoft Word). And I wouldn't have her any other way.

I love you ma. Someday, I will deserve you.