Aric
got married Saturday. He’s the oldest and the last and now I can rest in the
shade of the tree from which I cut the laurel wreath of my success as a mother.
Let me rejoice and take up oil painting or green bean growing or apply to be on
the Osceola county volunteer mounted posse. You don’t have to tell me twice. In
my “retirement” from mothering I intend to collect free horses and try to turn
them into the sorts of beasts that don’t run away when people fly helicopters
at them.
When
my first child was married I was given a book, informing me that my duties as
the mother-of-the-newly-married-person should include ONLY the sharing of an
occasional home remedy and a recipe—if I knew any. Anything else constituted
meddling. You don’t have to tell
me twice. Then the phone calls started coming.
“Mom,
you’ve got to help me,” The newly married Heather said.
“Only
if this is for a recipe and/or a remedy,” I said.
“How
do you roll crescent rolls?”
“You
mean the kind in the can?”
“Are
there another kind?” She sounded a little bit miffed.
“Well,
find the point on the triangle,” I instructed, wisely.
“The
point? There are three points. It’s nothing but points,” she pouted.
“Yes,
true. There are three points, but I don’t think that it’s an equilateral
triangle.” Finally, a use for my college mathematics, I felt smug.
“What
the flip are you talking about? I rolled one up and it looks like poop.”
“That
can’t be right,” I reassured.
WHAT
I SAID NEXT: “Just roll up the
long edge, so that the little apex of the triangle is on top, and then bend it
into a little crescent, moon shape.”
WHAT
SHE HEARD: “Roll up the
quadrihexial axis of doughy junk around a stick and fling it at the moon.”
“Okay
Mom, listen I have to go now, because I have a nosebleed,” Heather said,
sounding muffled and stuffy from the ensuing nosebleed.
“Okay
dear. Just apply pressure to your nose, but don’t tilt your head back. Goodbye
and good remedy.”
Regarding
the book with tips for mothers of the newly married—my daughter (wise beyond
her cooking skill level) finally reassured me, “Forget the book. The book is
crap. That’s not our family. It will never be our family. Just be yourself. That
kind of meddling has always worked before.”
True.
I can’t say we always roll our crescent rolls the way everybody else does, but
we do have a certain style, and that’s always worked before.
Linda
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