Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's Riches Are Not Monetary

Today I feel like the $800 daughter.

You might recall how my mom alternates between treating me like her $8.00 daughter, and her $0.05 daughter. That's how it seems to me. One time I met her at the bowling alley with The Pony, and gave her some leftovers, a 44 oz. Cherry Diet Coke, and a Globe and a National Enquirer. She repaid me by handing me $8.00. Just because. At least that's how I remember it. Could have been that time I picked her up in the midst of five days of snow cover and let her run errands with me. I'm such a GIVING kind of gal that the specifics escape me. But I DO remember that time she found a nickel under her car, and gave it to me after a trip to the dead-mouse-smelling post office.

What did I do to deserve $800, you ask. Not a thing. In fact I did not receive $800 at all. That's just how important Mom made me feel. You see, I came down the hall from my parking lot duty this afternoon, and saw Mom duck in the back door by my classroom. I made a pit stop in the women's faculty bathroom, not to wash my hair in the sink or anything, but to use the facilities because it's a long time from 10:53 a.m. lunch until after 3:00 duty. By the time I got back to my classroom, there came The Pony jogging down the hall with Mom's purse. He needs to rein in that tendency to gallop down the hall. That's how he broke his first elbow. I scolded him a bit for asking Grandma for $3.43, because we are NOT a family to go around begging for cash.

The Pony, it seems, had overextended himself on his purchases at the BOGO book fair. He had $40 with him, but still went over. He panicked when he couldn't find me, even though he KNEW I had duty. I pulled the money from my pocket and made him give the cash back to Grandma. Off he went to settle his debt before the librarian came after him to whack his kneecaps with a baseball bat.

Mom said, "Well, I'll be going now." That made me think that The Pony had called and made her drive all the way to Newmentia to bring him money. She said that she didn't even see him until she got to my room. So I persisted. Why was she there?

"I just came by to give you a hug. Because on the phone this morning, you sounded like you needed a hug." She came back to my desk, stepped over the shoes I had just taken off my weary feet, and hugged me. THEN she pulled a fun size Three Musketeer and a fun size Butterfinger out of her purse. "And I brought these for you, too. Not for The Pony."

DANG! I felt like eight hundred bucks.

2 comments:

Sioux said...

Forget all the errands and food and entertainment...If you were a great daughter, you would give your mom a tip calculator. That's what caring kids give to their parents...

Hillbilly Mom said...

Sioux,
Well, the REALLY caring ones give their parents a Cadillac, which the parents sell to Jack Klompus after fear of being impeached by the retirement community association, who drives it into the swamp right after selling it back to the kid. A tangled, wicked, woven web of misunderstandings.