Not funny but legit crazy…..

My mom ADORES my xH, has always wanted us to reconcile, and they still talk regularly. I’m pregnant with my first child with my new H. Mom has been telling xH that he needs to take in my new baby as his own and to start by buying me stuff for the baby. Her example on what to buy the baby was….cupcakes. Because infants eat cupcakes.

I legit think that she believes I can pick which man is the daddy and that I’ll choose my xH if he only buys me enough stuff.

“I made you, therefore your children are basically my children, and what I say goes.”

Anonymous wrote:I thought this was supposed to be funny. People are just posting things that are mean/sad/racist. Does anyone have anything actually funny?

NP. I don't know, PP, but I will try.

My mother was both German and a nurse, and she grew up at a time and in a context when being a sharp-witted, intelligent woman was not a plus. This made her into the biggest contradiction I have ever known. 99% of the time she was uptight and stern, with extremely strict morals. You do not talk to boys on the phone (a woman's voice "does things" to men). You always dress to be ready for someone taking pictures. "F**k" (when I saw it on the underside of the playground slide) is a dirty word for when men have sex with other men, and they will go to hell for it. Your pants have to be baggy, or men will stare at your buttocks and masturbate.

Very strict. Very repressed. And we had two priests in my generation of cousins, because we were so so Catholic.

And then -- the other "Marie" would poke out at the weirdest times. The profane one. In traffic, stuck behind slow drivers when the light turns green: "Oh, my god. He's just up there busy counting his balls to make sure they are still there," or "she can't stop braiding her t*at hairs to pay attention to the light? (We would freeze and try not to giggle.)

As she got older, Other Marie became more and more opinionated. She went from believing sex was only for procreation to advocating for 5-year marriage contracts, "so the men have to work at keeping you happy." She would casually tell me to "consult your ass" when I was in a dilemma, and then she would laugh. "Vwot does you-ar ass think? You-ar ass dez not lead you vrong!"

And she survived breast cancer, but not its return. She was on high dose morphine at the end because of the bone metastases. She was even less inhibited, and she was absolutely hysterical, and I loved her so much. When I consult my ass, it tells me she was a damn fine woman and a great mother after all.

"Mom, how come you are always so negative and critical?"
"That is my job, why talk about things you do well."

"You should thank me, I put you on a diet when you were 2 years old."
But also,
"You are too skinny, gain some weight so you can look better."

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote: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.

You shouldve prayed to St Jude (patron saint of lost causes)! Maybe things would’ve been better. St Anthony is the patron of lost items.

Ha ha ha mixing up my saintly causes …

I converted from Catholicism as soon as I could - we had to pray to St Anthony for all the lost items …. 😀

My mom loves St Anthony, St Francis, and buries St Joseph to help people sell houses.

Also, she always has a little vial of holy water and would sprinkle it over our car before every road trip. And over my car every time I drove back to college.

When she's started, she exclaims "JESUS, Mary and Joseph!" Or "Jumpin Jehoshaphat!" My son thinks it's hilarious.

Oddly, I actually do find all that stuff kind of endearing and quaint. Because of it, I used to love tacky kitschy religious things like a velvet Last Supper or a weird light-up Jesus painting. Whenever she saw those things in my home, she'd declare them sacrilegious. She did laugh at a painting I had that showed Jesus drinking a beer and saying "let there be light beer."

Ha ha ha - that all sounds so familiar …I still keep holy water in our home and also buried St Joseph last time we sold our house ( it did go exceptionally well, thank you St Joseph).

Kitschy art was part of our Catholic childhood …. It is endearing and helps me feel connected to a great cosmic giggle around how foolish we are … I love art and like to have some that is not too serious … DH would absolutely love the let there be light beer painting … the weird velvet light up painting of the Last Supper sounds like something a sketch out of Monty Python … if it had sound, I could imagine it playing Auld Lang Syne with bagpipes.😂

"Jumpin Jehoshaphat!" Have mercy….

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote: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.

You shouldve prayed to St Jude (patron saint of lost causes)! Maybe things would’ve been better. St Anthony is the patron of lost items.

Ha ha ha mixing up my saintly causes …

I converted from Catholicism as soon as I could - we had to pray to St Anthony for all the lost items …. 😀

My mom loves St Anthony, St Francis, and buries St Joseph to help people sell houses.

Also, she always has a little vial of holy water and would sprinkle it over our car before every road trip. And over my car every time I drove back to college.

When she's started, she exclaims "JESUS, Mary and Joseph!" Or "Jumpin Jehoshaphat!" My son thinks it's hilarious.

Oddly, I actually do find all that stuff kind of endearing and quaint. Because of it, I used to love tacky kitschy religious things like a velvet Last Supper or a weird light-up Jesus painting. Whenever she saw those things in my home, she'd declare them sacrilegious. She did laugh at a painting I had that showed Jesus drinking a beer and saying "let there be light beer."

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:My mom used to make us go to bed really early, even in the summer, when it was still light out and windows were open. Frankly I think she was just lazy and sick of us. She told us that a musical bus would pass by to sing us to sleep and I heard it regulary. Somewhere in mid-elementary school I found out the 'bus' was actually the ice cream truck

That's terrible!!!

It would never have worked with us as we were waiting out on the street for the ice cream truck to come.

Anonymous wrote:My mom used to make us go to bed really early, even in the summer, when it was still light out and windows were open. Frankly I think she was just lazy and sick of us. She told us that a musical bus would pass by to sing us to sleep and I heard it regulary. Somewhere in mid-elementary school I found out the 'bus' was actually the ice cream truck

That's terrible!!!

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:My mom used to make us go to bed really early, even in the summer, when it was still light out and windows were open. Frankly I think she was just lazy and sick of us. She told us that a musical bus would pass by to sing us to sleep and I heard it regulary. Somewhere in mid-elementary school I found out the 'bus' was actually the ice cream truck

Your mom was BRILLIANT!

This is hilarious!

Anonymous wrote:I am the daughter of this gem:

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.

My mother died on September 1st. I talked with her earlier in the day. She was in a rehab for a broken foot. The rehab was closed to visitors because of rampant Covid in the rehab. I told my mother as soon as it lifted I would come visit her.

Me: We haven't seen each other since 2019. And what could be better than seeing me?
My mother: [Sister]

She said this without missing a beat. I always said my sister was her favorite and she always denied it. Even my sister admitted she got favored by my mom. I love that basically the last thing my mom did was admit it.

I remember this so well, and laughed and winced when I read it. Sorry that she continued on in the same vein until the end. I hope your dad is still around?

I also remember the seeing eye miniature horses, “ Whore’s Breakfast” and mom who passed off soap opera story lines as situations from her life. That last one was a precursor to the excellent poster who read the thread about the people who failed to pick up their goldfish from the pet-sitters and passed it off to coworkers as a situation she was dealing with.

When we win the lottery we are all going to Israel (we are not a Jewish family but she was obsessed with Israel).we never won the lottery or scratch it cards so that dream is pending …

I love a bit of Tiz (campy glam)

Potato chips are a health food …

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:My mom used to make us go to bed really early, even in the summer, when it was still light out and windows were open. Frankly I think she was just lazy and sick of us. She told us that a musical bus would pass by to sing us to sleep and I heard it regulary. Somewhere in mid-elementary school I found out the 'bus' was actually the ice cream truck

Your mom was BRILLIANT!

Utterly! Love this

Anonymous wrote:My mom used to make us go to bed really early, even in the summer, when it was still light out and windows were open. Frankly I think she was just lazy and sick of us. She told us that a musical bus would pass by to sing us to sleep and I heard it regulary. Somewhere in mid-elementary school I found out the 'bus' was actually the ice cream truck

Your mom was BRILLIANT!

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:“Having more than two kids is so distasteful. We’re not livestock meant to constantly breed.”

Can I trade with you? My mom loves to prattle on about only children are brats. (I have an only by choice)

I have three boys and constantly get variations of “it’s so sad you don’t have your girl, you can’t give up, you need to keep trying!” I’ve been very very clear that I wanted 3, have 3, and am not in any way disappointed. Also, related, “kids aren’t that hard, not that expensive, if you love being a mom you’d want more!” I beg to differ!