My Mother, The Drug Dealer
(ring ring)
My Mother: “Hello?”
Me: “Hey Mom, it’s me. I think I caught Dad’s cold.”
My Mother: “Oh no. He’s still sick!”
Me: “Yeah, it’s like that. I’m considering going into phone sex until this stupid shit is gone. I could make a killing if I could find the dudes with a fetish for chicks who cough and sound like Thelma from The Simpsons.”
My Mother (dryly): “Sounds like a great idea.”
Me: “Hey, work with what you got, right?”
My Mother (laughs): “Did you take some Tylenol?”
Me: “No, I don’t have any. I’ve been alternating between the heat and air, trying to get comfortable. Waging war on this fucking virus.”
My Mother: “Well, I have some Tylenol.”
Me: “I can swing by a little later and pick it up.”
My Mother: “Oh, I can drop it off. You live four seconds away.”
Me: “Wow. Cool. Okay. You sure?”
My Mother: “Can you meet me in the parking lot? My knee is killing me.”
Me: “Sure, no problem.”
My Mother: “See you soon.”
Me: “Sweet, thanks, Ma.”
—————–
(thirty minutes later)
Me (thinks): “Wow, she’s driving that fancy new car awfully slowly through the parking lot. I hope she at least put the Tylenol in a brown bag or something so it doesn’t look… suspicious. The last thing I need is my neighbors to think I’m a drug dealer. Wait, maybe I should play the part – I got some aviator sunglasses somewhere. I bet I could get one of those nose/mustache/fake glasses things so I look like I’m trying to be “in disguise.” Or I could go knocking on the doors of my neighbors, holding my baggie of Tylenol, so it makes me look all suspicious. That’d be kinda funny until the police came. I’d probably get arrested for the indecent wearing of sequins or something. I can never keep up with the laws about Being Gaudy In Public. And GOOD LORD OF BUTTER, Ma, can you LOOK any more suspicious driving through my parking lot? Probably not. At least, I don’t know how. Maybe I should get HER some of those novelty glasses or something so it REALLY looks like we’re being illicit. ARGGG! MA, DON’T RUN ME OVER.”
Me (walking up to the driver’s side window): “Thanks Ma, for bringing these by. I’m in some sorry shape.”
My Mom: “Well, I hope you feel better. (rustles around in her bag for a couple of seconds while I stand there, looking suspicious.) Here you go!”
Me: “HOLY FUCK, MA. We look like DRUG DEALERS.”
My Mom (laughs): “Go knock on some doors and see if you can sell the pills.”
Me: “MOM! I need to LIVE HERE. I can’t try to sell my neighbors TYLENOL.”
My Mom (giggles): “Yeah, I guess you should try and sell ’em the GOOD stuff.”
Me: “What, like Ibuprofen?”
My Mom: “NOW you’re talking.”
Me (laughs): “All right, Mom, thanks again. You and Dad will have to come over and see the new space soon.”
My Mom: “Sounds good!”
Me: “Bye – thanks again!”
My Mom: “Be sure to get top dollar for those pills – they’re EXTRA STRENGTH.”
Me: “MOOOOOMMMMMMMM!”
(she drives off)
Me (looking down at the bag): “Holy fucksticks. I’d better get inside before someone sees me.”
And THAT is how my mother became my Tylenol Dealer.
RT @mommywantsvodka: My Mother, The Drug Dealer http://t.co/z4kb4W7z
I have very similar discussions with my Mum about similar things…. you sure you aren’t me?
Next time, both of you should drive to the grocwry store, cruise through from opposite directions with your driver’s side windows down, and throw the drugs/money through each other’s open windows. Nobody ever notices, as long as neither of you miss.
ROFLMAO!!! Love it!! Sounds like some conversations I’ve had with my mom! …and if anyone has any ibuprofen to spare…meet me outside, k?
There’s the Aunt Becky we know and adore. I knew you were in there somewhere.
This made my day! I too am sick, so I needed a laugh.
Can you come here and give me your cold? I need a few days off…
Ibuprofen really is the good stuff.
Hope you feel better quickly. It probably isn’t fun to have a cold when you are in jail for drug dealing 😉
Speaking of drug dealers, chicken soup has been proven to help getting over a could/the flu.
http://chetday.com/coldfluremedy.htm
and
http://www.unmc.edu/publicrelations/article.htm
Here it is, in layman’s terms:
“Chicken soup significantly inhibited neutrophil migration and did so in a concentration-dependent manner. The activity was present in a nonparticulate component of the chicken soup. All of the vegetables present in the soup and the chicken individually had inhibitory activity, although only the chicken lacked cytotoxic activity. Interestingly, the complete soup also lacked cytotoxic activity. Commercial soups varied greatly in their inhibitory activity.”
Haha, that is so funny My mom and I frequently trade good drugs. The last time I had a really bad cold she brought me these little pearls that look like vitamin d tablets, but they help the coughing a lot. It was the most comfortable I had been in a week, and she brought them in a plastic baggy.
When she quit her job and was getting ready to move to Pennsylvania, she had no insurance and could not afford her gabapentin without putting another bill off. So, I paid my $8.00 at the pharmacy and took her the entire bottle so that she could have some relief from her nerve pain too.
Big giant, squishy, virtual hugs from way too far away in Souther Misery.
I had those little cough pearls once and they were the only thing on earth that could make me stop coughing! I wish I knew what they were!
Devan
Ah, the old “bum knee” trick! Get’s ’em to the car every time! 🙂
Love it, AB!! Your mom is too funny!
Thanks for the laughs AB. Hope you feel better soon.
The funny thing is there was a bag EXACTLY LIKE THAT in my purse when I was cleaning it out to come see you! I should have left it in there! We could have had a great time scandalizing your neighbors with it.
…maybe that would have brought out the cardboard stalker…
ROFL. Even when you’re sick, you’re a riot. You are an inspiration. If only I could find so much humor in the stupid things that happen to me every day.
Get well soon.
My Mother, The Drug Dealer http://t.co/NVDdE0NV via @@mommywantsvodka
Only you, Becky. Only you…
Vy. Co. Din. Nuff said.
[…] Wants Vodka’s My Mother, The Drug Dealer: It sounds like something my mother and I would do. Just add my mom saying, “Stop saying […]
Lol. I have a plastic baggie of assorted pills in my purse except I can’t remember which is which so I just randomly take a pill and hope for the best.