my monologue
Pigs Fly
Oh my gosh!
I was freaking out.
My mom just texted me.
And no, the shock wasn’t because of what it said, thank
goodness, rather it was the simple fact that my mom had somehow acquired the
ability to text message. PERIOD.
The same mom who can’t figure out the car stereo or any
other stereo for that matter. The same
mom who can’t use computers and has me emailing relatives… in Vietnamese which
takes me way longer than it should ever take anyone.
My mom texted me. She
texted me in what my boyfriend remembers to be in perfect English. I kinda gave him a look. One that said “Who
are you to be judging my mom’s English,” while simultaneously saying, “Was it
really?”
SO… I check.
“Sorry your dad and i could not spend time with you on your
birthday I love you”
Almost brings a tear to my eye. My mom loves me.
My dad on the other hand, I mean, yeah he loves me too, but
he hardly ever calls. The only time he
ever calls is super random. Once in a
full moon, if even.
And he doesn’t really talk to me about anything. Just his usual, “Did you eat today?” “Did you work?”… “class?”… sometimes he’ll
throw in a chuckle with an “Okay. Bye.” That’s the extent of our conversation. Maybe if I’m lucky he’ll throw in a tip,
like, “Study hard.” But maybe it’s less a tip than it is a command. Ah well, that’s more my mom’s department
anyway. Telling me straight, what she
thinks I should be thinking about. I.E.
“maybe you should grow out your hair.”
And it’s always super random with her.
I’m talking about going out and she’s telling me to grow my hair, tweeze
my eyebrows, etc, etc, etc.
But I guess old people have it going for them.
Honesty, that is.
Well, unless of course they’re talking about how great their kids
are. They may embellish. But maybe they really are proud parents.
Maybe I should text my mom…but I’m not sure she’ll know how
to check it.
... tell me what you think. I might read it (or a revised version) for an event.
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