Thank you to Father Jack Sewell for giving my mom the Sacrament of the Sick in her room at Saddleback Memorial, and for praying with us, and to Father Ramos, Monsignor Gibson, Julia, Uncle Bill, Jeff, Gretchen and Matt for a beautiful service. Thanks to all who honored our mother, grandmother and sister with your presence at her Memorial Mass and Reception.



Friday, July 16, 2010

MY MOM WAS FUNNY by Elyse

When you write for a newspaper or a brochure, you are obligated to phrase things in a certain way. This is not the way most people talk, though.

"Sue had such a sparkling wit".

"Such effervescent laughter".


Yeah. Well, all that needs to be said is that my mom was funny. In fact, she was funnier than h*ll. You wouldn't think a common multi-pak sponge from Vons would be fodder for endless hilarity, yet it was for us. As follows. . .

"People" who shall not be named would often clean up a counter spill of say, milk or Caesar Salad Dressing, usually dairy or egg based liquids, and leave the sponge unrinsed and bloated with the foul substance for hours or even days. Inevitably, it seemed, she would ask me to wipe off the counters with a soaked, foul-smelling and cold chunk of green stuff formerly known as a sponge. Much wailing and gnashing of teeth ensued, ususally filling a good 45 minutes of blames and aspersions cast in the direction of the aforementioned "people".In the end, I dealt with the loathsome object, but my revulsion must have tickled her pink because she picked up on the theme and would sneak up on me and attack me with "the sponge" while I was paying complete attention to something else.

"It's the SPONGE!! The sponge!" "It's going to get you. . ."

She shoved that wet thing under my chin so the sour milk smell assaulted me with maximum force.

Gah!! Get it away!!

We laughed and laughed. She was just like that. The funniest mom in the whole wide world.

1 comment:

  1. Oh, yeah. The other sponge thing my mom did was more quirky than funny. Whenever she was talking while in reach of a sponge, she would absent-mindedly pick it up and rub back and forth on a nonexistent spot on the counter. So you would be trying to listen to her and wonder what the heck she was doing with the sponge at the same time. I guess many years of sponge handling teaches you that there is a pretty high likelihood that at any given time, there is something on a counter that needs to be wiped, but she never looked first.

    Next up, "Mom Goes Shopping?" and "Die, Mosquitoes!!!! Die! Die! Die!!!!"

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