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Sep. 29th, 2011 06:54 pmI miss when my mom was fat because she gave the best hugs. I’m not even saying that to be a jerk. But then, I’ve lived hundreds of miles away from her since before the mega-diet.
Sep. 29th, 2011
Me: Hey have you checked your email in the last couple days?
Sister #3*: I have not. Let me go do that now.
… [a minute passes]
Sister: Oh my God. Holy shit.
Me: Yeah, you were the only one who hadn’t replied to Mom so I figured you probably didn’t know yet.
Sister: Holy shit.
Me: So I’m going to wait to hear from Mom again, then see if I can go visit home sometime soon.
Sister: Holy shit.
Me: Yeah.
Sister: Holy shit. I wasn’t going to visit home until spring but I guess I’d better move that up.
Me: Yeah. I been drinking. I always figured since I’m his god-daughter I’d be the one who went and cleaned out his house with him when he was 75 and too crotchety to manage it anymore.
Sister: Yeah. You might have to move that up too.
Me: Yeah.
Sister: Holy shit.
Me: Pretty much.
*(There are 4 of us. Sometimes we use number codes. Yes, I’m #2. It’s OK, it’s just chronological. Hey, I had to *share* even my Middle Child Syndrome, at this point a poop joke is insignificant atop *that* trauma.)
Sister #3*: I have not. Let me go do that now.
… [a minute passes]
Sister: Oh my God. Holy shit.
Me: Yeah, you were the only one who hadn’t replied to Mom so I figured you probably didn’t know yet.
Sister: Holy shit.
Me: So I’m going to wait to hear from Mom again, then see if I can go visit home sometime soon.
Sister: Holy shit.
Me: Yeah.
Sister: Holy shit. I wasn’t going to visit home until spring but I guess I’d better move that up.
Me: Yeah. I been drinking. I always figured since I’m his god-daughter I’d be the one who went and cleaned out his house with him when he was 75 and too crotchety to manage it anymore.
Sister: Yeah. You might have to move that up too.
Me: Yeah.
Sister: Holy shit.
Me: Pretty much.
*(There are 4 of us. Sometimes we use number codes. Yes, I’m #2. It’s OK, it’s just chronological. Hey, I had to *share* even my Middle Child Syndrome, at this point a poop joke is insignificant atop *that* trauma.)