A day at work...With my Mom

Ahhh...the joy of working with your Mom. This is not my first time, no siree, not a virgin to this one. I'm excited to go to work today, wondering what surprises are in store for me. My day starts off relatively normal. You know, get up, start the coffee, the whole bathroom scene and what not. I then gather some things I'll be needing for the day...iPod, cell phone, book, etc. Suddenly I'm well aware of how this day is gonna go as I find myself trying to plug the iPod headphones into the charger slot of the cell phone. Yep, tried that a few times while the wife is staring at me wondering if she'll be having to sign me up for SSI checks soon. Okey-doke, off I go.
I leave maybe 5 or 10 minutes early so I can drop off Tess's eBay purchase to her at her place of employment. She's not in yet, even though it's well past 7:30 am, (okay, 7:33am) so I just leave the box on her desk and head to work. On the way, we pass each other and with my window down, I'm waving my arm frantically out the window at her, but to no avail. Stone Cold Tess is looking nowhere but straight ahead, while others are looking at me wondering if I am currently receiving SSI checks.
Okay then, I get to work with plenty of time to indulge in the bagels Mommy brought to share. Mmmm...cream cheese, too! Ahem, excuse me, I have been informed it's Neufchatel Cheese, 1/3 less fat than cream cheese. Good deal then...bagel and coffee...I'm good to go.
8:15am---The candidates finally start to arrive (it's a testing center for RNs, LPNs, Radiologists, etc) and all is well until the second to last candidate comes in and I hear my mother going through the motions of the whole speech you have to give them when they arrive. The only two things you can take with you in the testing room is your ID and your locker key (if you need a locker) and I hear this lady start to groan and moan because she can't take her pen and paper and watch and whatever into the testing room. She just absolutely has to write down all of her labs when she gets in there so she'll know them. Honey...We have a little thing called "real life". When you get a job, are you going to carry your "labs" around with you every day? Besides, we have an erasable noteboard and marker at your station for you to use. Okay, maybe she will carry her labs with her at work...And I do understand test anxiety...I've seen some people just break down and cry or empty the contents of their stomach due to the stress, but she just rubbed me the wrong way from the door. Plus, at the risk of being judgmental (too late), she looks like she went back to school at the age of 60, and in lieu of getting a haircut, she has resorted to hot rollers and has a wild medusa-like pile on her head. I suppose it was just a little annoying to listen to an older lady whine like the younger girls. She's probably a very nice lady, probably loves her kids and grandkids and great grandkids. Okay, let it go, move on. Mom finally said to her, "Look, you need to get your ass in there, take the damn test and not worry how well you're gonna do on it." The lady then thanked her for calming her down. Diana's words of encouragement...works every time.
9am---Everyone has shown up and they are all checked in and I go check on Mom. (I'm in the back, she's in the front) I see after she ate her bagel or two, she decided to finish off the neufchatel cheese with a knife and take her mid-morning nap. I wipe the milky drool from her chin and the desk and gently wake her. After reminding her where she is and who I am, she's back on track again and goes back to the computer. I go grab a piece of fudge to finish my coffee with and go back to my station. She informed me that Tammy will be stopping by today and I get a little excited, but then I wonder if she's confused or if Tammy is really gonna visit. We shall see.
10am---By now, I've sent and received a few text messages from the wife. She informed me that she has gone to the grocery store, but forgot butter. But she's gonna look it up on the internet to see how to make it. Hmmm? Are you crazy? You're 43 and you don't know how to make butter?! What did your mother do with you while you were growing up? Put you on a shelf and dust you once a week. Damn! I always got stuck with butter-churning duty while growing up. Everyone else got to play with their friends and go fishing in the creek, but I was always stuck with barn chores and butter churning. I suppose I'm a much better person for it, though.
10:30am---I go out to see what the old lady is up to and I notice she's on a hunting web site. What the...? Are you kidding me?
"Mom, what are you doing?"
"It's huntingnet.com"
"And?"
"Your father was on there, he belongs to the site, and he saw a post from some service men in Iraq and they wanted people to send them old hunting magazines and turkey calls and stuff."
"Huh?"
"I looked it up to see what they wanted. Your father wants me to put an ad in the Erie-Times asking if people will donate some items and he can send them on. He also put up a request at work asking the guys if they have any they can donate."
"Ohhh...it all makes sense now." Guys in Iraq are gonna call turkeys and ducks and deer in the desert and they forgot their magazines and calls and would like some sent to them. Hey, I'm all in support of the troops out there, give 'em what they want, give 'em what they need. My parents on the other hand just get stranger by the minute. Is this a hint of what's to come for me?
11 am---Where is Tammy?
11:30am---My Mother informs me she would like me to make her lunch. What can I whip up with nothing but a toaster oven, mini fridge, plastic ware, and some foil baking dishes, not even a microwave? Ahhh...homemade chicken soup. She, of course, loved it. She decided that lunchtime conversation was going to be centered around her physical exam she had last week. One of the tests they ran that you want to come out negative, turned out positive. After we discussed a few possibilities and the fact that she had a follow-up appointment with a specialist, I informed her that it's one of the many joys of getting old. She then informed me it's Middle Finger Tuesday and flipped me the bird while continuing to enjoy her brothy brew.
12:00pm---Diana's back on the phone. Doesn't sound like a problem, huh? As some of you may know, Diana's FAVORITE toy is the speakerphone. The last time I worked with her, she had some friend/associate on the speakerphone and they were "catching up" and he started talking about some minor procedure he had or was getting ready to have done. She asks, in a concerned tone, if it was serious. He says, "Am I on speakerphone?" Atta boy, he's been on this ride before, obviously. After they hung up, I found out he had some anal polyps removed. Shoulda just kept him on speakerphone. More fun that way.
Yippee!!! The baby's here!!! Thank you, Tammy!!! Whoa!!! What the hell is going on here? Britain has Kleenex hanging out of each leg of her little one-piece suit. She just had four shots and the doctor's office charges for Band-Aids and all Tammy had was her co-pay and parking meter change. So, Kleenex it is. Poor baby. Tammy said that the nurse told her, "Band-Aids stick." No shit. She's still the most perfect Brittle ever.
What does Tam say after she walks in and hands the baby to her favorite Aunt Shell and asks Mom what the deal is with the speakerphone. All of us kids who've had to call her at work have gotten the same speakerphone treatment. Why does she make us suffer so?
Diana has started speakerphone-calling every one she can think of to tell them that her granddaughter is here to visit her. She is oogie-woogie-oogie talking to the kid, hoping that whoever is on the other end will hear the baby gurgle and they can shrill with excitement, too. First victim...Tess. Ha ha ha ha ha ha!
1:30pm---Finished feeding the baby and changing the present in her pants...only one candidate left...gonna gather my things so I can run like hell when the bell rings.
Diana says, "This cow needs to hurry up; I wanna go home and jump your father." Sadly, another day has come to an end.
See you tomorrow, Mom.
Hope the butter's done, honey...I'm coming home!
Bye, Britain, you can come back tomorrow to adore me some more if you like.