The day your mom calls you fat

Let me start this blog by saying, I love my mother. She is a lovely woman. A terrifying, yet excellent human being whom I have the utmost respect for. At the same time, she is not the kind you want to upset. She can go from kitten to mountain lion in 6.8 seconds. She can turn you to stone with one cold stare. She is also known (in smaller circles) as the Kraken. She once broke a wooden spoon over my behind and then lectured me about breaking her spoon... It was the 90s, and I rightfully earned it by chucking a remote at my little brother end over end... But that's beside the point. She is an excellent parent, and an excellent human being, but everyone has their "open mouth, insert foot" moments and my mother, unfortunately, has a daughter unashamed to commit them to writing...

One fine evening, the family and I were playing cards, as we so often do. The conversation drifted between China patterns, food, and oral hygiene when suddenly, my mother turns to me, in an obvious glow of having had an epiphany, and says "Jessica, of all my children, I wish I'd gotten you braces..." A hush fell over the room. I'm fairly certain a pin actually dropped, and I stared. She stared. We all stared. At some point my mouth popped open in a mixture of shock and horror. I silently picked up the pieces of my self esteem and muttered "Ummmm thanks?" That was all I could manage before all in attendance started in on the boisterous laughter. "I didn't mean it like that" was her apology all night. Of all my parents...

This next occasion was witnessed by not only immediate, but extended family. Bravo mom, bravo. We had T-shirts made for opening night of Mockingjay (because that's what weirdly close knit families do...) and I passed them out to the cousins parents and siblings who all had requested one. When I realized I was the only one not wearing my shirt, I grabbed my shirt off the counter and went to change (because if my friends jumped off a bridge, I'd question their sanity. If my family did it, I'd figure there was food at the bottom.) I sat by my mother, the spot where I've felt safe and warm for most of my 26 years, and quickly learned my lesson when she turned to me and asked "Where did that really BIG shirt go?" Me: "uh what?" Mom: "the really big shirt" Me: "I'm wearing it Mom, and it fits like a dream" Mom: "no, the really large shirt that was on the counter" Me: "it's currently hugging my love handles mom..." Mom, finally realizing her error: "oh". I doubled over from laughing, and decided to use the time to try and find some semblance of self confidence hidden beneath my grandmothers rug.


Half my genes came from you,


Jessica