NO, I’m Serious!
My mother and I almost burned it to the ground today over a couple of Mexican Carne Asada plates.
El Fuego Errupto!!!
She was warming up some leftovers on the burner. Then, we got to talking about going out to dinner, instead. Mexican food. Great! Did she remember the burner when she went in the kitchen to wash her hands? No. Did I remember the burner when I went in right after her to turn out the light? No.
These Mujeres are Despistadas!
So, there we were at the Mexican restaurant. She was sipping her coffee and complaining about the weird taste. I was just happy to be eating somewhere else for a change. For the last four visits with my mother, we would go out to eat. And, no matter how much we talked about what we were in the mood for, we always ended up at the same little diner-like Mom and Pop restaurant down the corner. I hated the place because they slopped food on your plate like you were in a mess hall. And, the server always looked at me like she knew me from when she was in prison…….but, I digress.
The Mexican food smelled amazing.
I was so hungry that I was imagining bathing in pico de gallo and shoveling the carnitas in my mouth, when I heard it….
“Oh Lord Jesus! Did you turn the stove off?”
“Did you leave it on?”
“Did I leave it on?”
“Mom…..did you leave…it…on?!”
“I’m asking you?”
At this point, I can only describe what happened as a scene that probably came straight out of an old 
Keystone Cops silent flick with the piano accompaniment.
You know the one….
They’re all running around like chickens with their heads cut off, trying to get in the car, out the car, driving, not driving. Meanwhile, the piano is frantically playing a tune of utter chaos.
“What do we do?”
“We have to go back.”
“but, our food.”
“…..To Go’”
“Mom, you can’t take that coffee with you. It’s their mug.”
“Ask for a cup.”
“Make it at home!”
“But they’re still cooking our order. We can’t leave.”
“I’ll stay. You go.”
And off she went, while I paced the restaurant floor. The glances from the Cooks in the back did not escape me. I know what they were thinking…
Loca loca Mujer!
I grabbed the food and walked back home, but the story of the “loca loca mujer” did not end there.
Mom was the only one with house keys. Her house is gated - AND - to enter the lower part of the house where she lives, you have to go around the back. So yes, I was at the front gate for a good 20 minutes calling out. My mother finally showed up.
“I was wondering what took you so long.”
“Did you forget I had no keys?”
“I’m the one who FORGOT the stove, remember?”
“Oh yeah.”
“….Oh Noooo!”
“What now?”
“I shut the front door.”
“So?…..Oh No!”
<Cue Frantic Piano Accompaniment>
Now, imagine…..the Keystone Cops have finally arrived at the house where a thief is hiding. They can’t get in. The thief has locked them out. What do they do now? They climb on top of each other until they can reach the only open window.
“No, Mom! I am Not throwing you over my shoulder.”
“No, Mom! I am Not going to climb on your back.”
I did the only thing I could do. I piled the porch chairs on top of each other like leggo blocks, and slowly tried to balance my way to the bathroom window. It was hard to concentrate with my mother below mumbling things about breaking my legs and cutting myself on glass. Thanks Ma!
I got to the window fine, and thank God it was open a crack. But, for someone who has Zero upper body strength, balancing myself with one arm while opening the window with my other, was a near impossible feat. It was almost as impossible as ever getting the chance to eat that fabulous, Mexican feast from 10hrs ago.
But, I got us in. And, we ate our “take out”. And, all is well in the world again.
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It’s near bed time. I’m sipping tea and reading. Mom is in the other room watching tv, and I hear her chuckling.
“Funny what happened today, huh?”
“Yeah, pretty funny.” (No, not really) “At least we didn’t burn the house down.”
“Oh, you know, after all that happened, the stove Wasn’t on”……………
(How do you say F#*@ in Spanish?)
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6/28/10
About Me
This is what happens when you suddenly have a lot of time on your hands, and a million thoughts in your head. I have no ulterior motive other than to drag you into my brain, in hopes to find clarity on the other side. I dedicate this blog to those with cautious consciousness, a creative jugular, and a lactose intolerant stomach. "Psst...Don't drink the milk," Buckwheat said, "...ish spoiled."P.S.
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