After church I arrive at her place. She has oranges cut up and a pot of black beans sitting on the stove. I can smell the pepper. That pot of beans is for me.
The Waltons marathon on is GMC. Of course that's what Mommy wants to watch so that's what we watch. It's nice watching shows I don't want to watch with my mother. She says ridiculous things, I crack jokes about her old school values and pretend I don't agree with them. We laugh. We eat oranges and the television begins to watch us.
I know exactly where I get my knack for not shutting up. We talk and talk and talk.
After eating my pepper-full beans and a few more orange wedges I make my way to the floor just beneath her legs, throw my head back and beg for a massage. I knew she wouldn't be able to resist the face I was making. Mommy's little hands get to work and we have the exchange below.
MOMMY: You know my dear friend Victoria... her son was born the same year you were born. He's married now and has a son.
ME: Okay. Are you trying to tell me something Ma?
MOMMY: Yes.
I took three deep sighs and continued to enjoy my Mommy massage. The woman says what she feels. She holds nothing back. While she rubbed and commented on the state of my tense shoulders I wondered how she would tell me I should be married with kids next Sunday...
This is the life! Absolutely.
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