Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Where Is Help When You Need It?

Oh, Lady U! the tremor, the horrot, the beads on the brow, how your very incisors must be shivering as you in vain trying to solve the very enigma of your soul: the stalker mother! Mothers! So enduring in their pursuit of revenge!

I have several answers, none of them worthy, I fear:

1. Where is the help when you need it? Why can we no longer call on our servants, Theresa and Milly, to place the call to your mother on your behalf, curtsy and explain in obedient, lavender tones how tender your disposition and how phone conversations give you the fits?

2. Call mother and plead toothache, speaking of the anguish of insistent root canals.

3. Have a drink and call mother, speaking of the anguish of insistent root canals.

4. Tell Lord Major to call mother and report on your absence as you are helping refugees in Uganda in a covert governmental mission.

5. Fling the door open widely when she arrives and say, "Surprise! Mummy, I am home! Just got back from Namibia and you know the phones dont work there! "

Then ask yourself, what is your character's motivation? if you were the author of you, what would you say of you and your mother?

In any case, please relate, if you will, the continuing tale of generations in mutually ignorant transit.

I sympathize as only a prodigal daughter can!

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