Crazy shit my mom says

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:My mother was visiting the city from her upper-middle class suburbs in which she's lived for 40 years (she is about 60). We are white, and in a car, at an intersection. A black man carrying a long (non-fold up) umbrella strides across the street in front of us.

My mom: Oh, there are a lot of those where we live.
My sister and I: A lot of what? A lot of black people?
My mom: Black people carrying assault rifles down the street, yes
My sister and I: In your GATED senior community of upper-middle class people?
My mom: Yes
My sister and I: Dad, do you find this to be the case?
My dad: No. I have no idea what your mother is talking about.
My sister: Mom, that was an umbrella, not an assault rifle
My mom: well, it looked like an assault rifle
Me: Mom, have you ever seen an assault rifle in real life?
My dad: No she hasn't.

I feel like it'd be a bit of an understatement to say my mom's a racist.

I want to be the third sister. I love this so much.

Um, I responded to the wrong post. YIKES. Delete, delete, delete.

[Anonymous]

Every time a family is in news because the Mom gave birth to multiples, my mother has to let us know she thinks it's disgusting and like a dog giving birth to a litter.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:"In SF most everyone is white, Asian, or South American."

South American????

What do you call Mexico and the countries below that? South America.

Mexico is part of North America, do you owned a map?

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:"In SF most everyone is white, Asian, or South American."

South American????

What do you call Mexico and the countries below that? South America.

Mexico is part of North America, do you owned a map?

That post was from eight years ago. Let it go.

[Anonymous]

My mom would often loudly fart (either pretend nothing happened or ask with disdain “who did that?”)

Declaring loudly at uncle’s funeral (brother she did not like) “will you look at that expensive coffin. What a waste of good wood”

“Are you going out in that? That outfit makes you look fat” and “sex traffickers in Middle East and Africa love fat girls.”

Also regularly admonish us to “eat everything on your plate because the starving children in Africa would eat it if they could.”

On referring to people in the third person when they are in the room: “She is the cat’s mother” but when expressing her own displeasure “We are not amused”

“If you argue with me again, you’ll get the wrong end of the feather duster” (and I regularly did).

“Don't make me get the wooden spoon.”

“Put your shoes and coat on or you’ll get a chill in your kidneys.”

Whenever we lost keys, purse or whatever: “ Will you just Pray to Saint Anthony and stop bothering me” (St Anthony is the Patron Saint of lost causes)

“You’ll be the f@ckun death of me”

“Shut the f@ckun door. You weren’t born in tent.”

So many more.
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[Anonymous]

You would have such a lovely figure if you lost weight.

There is always someone richer, thinner, or prettier; just do the best you can dear. (I can’t convey her tone but very condescending)

You got a C. Well you can always be a prostitute. (It was either straight As or a life of prostitution. Nothing in between!)

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:My mom's sex talk:

"keep your dress down."

That was my entire sex talk.

Mine: “Keep your books open and your legs closed.”

Mine: If you sleep next to a boy, you could get pregnant.

(I was 29 years old...)

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:My mom's best friends for as long as I can remember have been her lovely lesbian down-the-block neighbors. I know their names and so does everybody, including her, but she insists on referring to them as "the lesbians," and individually as "the manly lesbian" and "the surprising lesbian" (not to their faces, of course.) "Honey, look, the surprising lesbian down the block made us a Christmas basket of cookies!" "Sorry, can't talk now, the lesbians are here."

I don’t why this made me laugh so hard🤣🤣🤣

[Anonymous]

My MIL refers to Jean shorts as “real short jeans”.
My European mother says “Ass” instead of Ace store. “We are going to the Ass today!”