My mother is a woman who has challenged me in many ways.
Her way of making me think outside of the box:
“And what do you need a ‘training’ bra for? You can’t ‘train’ your boobs to do anything.”
Her way of putting things into perspective:
(Shortly after she gave my dog away. Me. Weeping.) “It’s ok, Bridge, we got Arby’s for dinner tonight.”
Her dating advice:
“Oh Bridge, you don’t want to date him. He has red hair. If you have children, they’ll never be able to go out in the sun, they’ll be so pale and they always have allergies.”
Her advice on love:
“Sex is nothing. LOVE is everything (pause) Goddamit, do you see that? Do you see? That’s your dad’s dandruff all over!”
So why should her thoughts about my wedding pictures be any different?
We were perusing my wedding photos so that she might find the perfect one to pick out for her frame. My two sisters got my mom a Waterford frame at their weddings. I got my mom an Orrefors. “You always have to be different don’t you Bridget?” I asked my mother if she wanted to exchange it, “it’s not cheap, mom, it’s good crystal. I got you good crystal.” She looks away as if nothing happened and retorts, “no, it’s fine.”
After 15 minutes of looking at pictures on jpeg files that are as big as a city zip code, we managed to find a handful in the first 200 (of 1500) that worked for her.
“Oh look Bridge, your nails were so nice. And now…” she glances over at my hands and gives a disapproving look. I reply, “Mom, I know this is going to seem shocking to you but NOT having nails does NOT stress me out. Besides, it’s my only vice. I mean, I don’t smoke… like SOME people.”
Good Nails
Bad Nails
“Never start smoking. It’s an awful habit. But your fingers. Oh! You know your skin is there for a reason? I hope you don’t get an infection and lose all your fingers.”
The Tale of the Nailbiter Who Lost Her Fingers. I think I missed that after school special.
