Mother’s Day

“My mother clung tightly to her over-the-top Boston accent (every kid in town had an impression of her in their repertoire) and was always quite pleased whenever it annoyed the town natives who turned their noses up at anyone foolish enough to not have landed on the Rappahannock River with Captain John Smith, therein making them a “come-here.” She was an obstinate, proud Yankee who wasn’t the type to take shit from anybody – this was, after all, a woman who once told Robert Kennedy to go to hell after he accidentally stepped on her foot.”


“My lecture had finally grown tiresome, and he handed me a book.  It was yet another book about the sounds animals make that actually made the sound when you pushed the button on the picture, presumably since having a two year-old kid around wasn’t already loud enough.  These books drove me crazy – apparently, the most important thing a child could learn were the sounds animals made.  I don’t know why this was so important – unless a kid knew he wanted to grow up and become an 19th century trapper, was it ever going to come up later on in life?  How many job interviews are ruined because someone doesn’t know what sound a goat makes?”