So, my mother (whose blog may be viewed
here) and I have decided to post corresponding blog posts about each other (and by "corresponding" I mean "posted at the same time").
As such, I will attempt to summarize my mother and my relationship with her in a series of various whimsies.
Whimsy #1:
Comparative Psychological Analyses
If one were to compare my mother and I side by side, it would be pretty obvious that she was my mother. We have the same nose, the same eye shape, the same vocal tones, the same tendency to bitch when we don't get our way, roughly the same speech patterns.
However, there are differences in our personalities which come out when we interact.
I feel that the most obvious of these is her belief in a global concept of Justice (note the capital J), however she refuses to understand that Italy has "Iustitia" with a capital "I", whereas I support the existence of both "justice" and "iustitia", neither using capital letters.
Here is an example:
Note the AK-47 spear. You may have to click the image to read what the tv is saying
Whimsy #2:
When attempt to shop together, we end up in Narnia
The other day we went to Wal*Mart to pick up some contrived thing, I don't remember what it was. I proceeded to follow my mother, I assumed she that she knew where she was going, because she was the one picking things up. About twenty minutes later we noticed that it was significantly colder, and many of the storegoers around us happened to be talking animals.
As it turned out, she was following me because I apparently knew where I was going, but I was following her. The result: Narnia.
Wimsy #3:
The duo was very active even at an early age.
When I was very young, my mother and I obsessively played a game called "Banjo Kazooie".
During the summer our day consisted of me waking up at the crack of Dawn and going to wake my mother, who would inquire something along the lines of "What the fuck? What time is it?" To this I would respond, with an ironically straight face "Banjo Kazooie".
Instantaneously spellbound by the utterance of the two words which bound her comologically to the will of the Nintendo
® Corporation, she would roll out of bed and lumber sleepily to the television, where I would have likely turned on the game already. One of us would begin playing while the other fetched a large glass bowl and a bag of barbecue potato chips. From dawn till dusk we would instruct an anthropomorphic bear and his tropical squackbox lady friend to perform various tasks inside the lair of a nice old evil witch who only wanted to steal the bear's sister's youth.
One day we actually ran out of potato chips...so what did we do? We paused the game, left all the lights on, possibly even left the refrigerator door open, hopped in the car and SPED to the store to buy more chips.
The following is what the note on the floor reads:
I was pretty much raised to be a nerd from birth.
I had planned for many more Whimsies, and may I'll add some later. Pictures will be added tomorrow.
In the meantime I leave you with this:
Your mother likely kept you from watching "bad shows" by forbidding it. Mine unknowingly kept me from doing so for a long ass time by saying she didn't give a rat's ass what I watched so long as I didn't act an ass in public. Win.
