26 July 2011

Becoming Mom

Messy Eater
image by Tarehna Wicker
When I was a kid, I went through this phase where I just could not look at my mom while she was eating, at least not at home.  I’m not exactly one for the strictest of table manners; I talk with my mouth full and I eat everything with my hands.  But I was, oddly, a little bit more of a neat-nick as a child, especially when it came to food.  And my beloved mother frequently looked like someone had run over her face with a lunch truck. 

I got over it by the time I was 10 or so, and now it’s something that strikes me as hilarious on the rare occasion I think of it at all.  Here I was, all of 8, absolutely horrified that my mother had a swipe of peanut butter across one cheek. What can I say; I was kind of a strange kid.

I mean, of course everyone gets sauce all over themselves at a BBQ, but this was, like, everything she ate, or so it seemed to my over-sensitive kid brain.  There’d be this spot of ketchup or mustard or whatever a good two inches away from her mouth and I’d try so hard to make eye contact only to be sucked into gawking at whatever bit of sauce had escaped her notice.

When we were out in public it was fine.  But at home, it was like she had no nerve endings in her face.  It seemed like she didn’t even notice the problem (as opposed to simply not caring). I couldn’t figure out how she couldn’t feel it sitting there, all sticky and gross.  Sometimes it was a good hour before we’d finish eating and she’d finally wipe the offensive goop away.

So today, when I realized that I’d had a good sized dollop of mayonnaise on my cheek for two hours after I finished a ham and pepperjack sandwich, I pretty much fell out laughing.  Sometimes, becoming your parents is fun. 

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