I was running low on blogging material last night so I thought I would drop by Senator McPrudy’s house aka my mother to see what chicanery she had gotten herself into lately. I was also fairly certain that since they were currently speaking that I would get a two-fer, and my sister would be there. I was right.
As I walked up to her door, I spied a possum slinking around her bushes and immediately stood my ground. I shook my keys and became entirely too cognizant that if the thing did in fact attack and kill me that I wasn’t wearing any underwear under my Juicy track suit let alone a good pair. My mother would be SO pissed at that scenario that it wouldn’t even be funny. She’s a stickler for always wearing your “good panties” (even though she knows I hate that word which is why she torments me with it).
Thankfully, my mother was peering out the front door window and watching me walk from my car. Why she waited until the last possible minute to open the door is beyond me since I called her from the street saying that I was there. It isn’t like she lives in the hood, but whatever.
The house was entirely dark except for the giant LCD television that my older brothers either bought for her or made her buy so that we could watch golf on holidays and not have to talk to each other. I’m usually in the kitchen drinking cooking wine so I appreciated the tv. Nothing like napping to a little golf or football while the older cousins entertained my kids.
On this night, Dancing with the Stars was on, and my mom and my sister were thrilled beyond belief at the emergence of David Hasslehoff (not of me who just came from a four day Writer’s Conference and had the traumatic experience of being seperated from my Louis Vuitton luggage all day when I missed my flight because I was drinking in the LAX bar) Oh no, “The Hoff” was center stage with my sister squealing like a teenage girl.
Me: Eww. You don’t like him, do you? He’s kind of a douchebag.
Mother turns up tv in an attempt to give silent disapproval via loud ass tv.
CC: Eh..I don’t listen to that gossip stuff. Oooh..look at him go!
Me: You so want to do him!
CC: No, I don’t! Stop it!
Me: You want him SO bad.
CC: Uh, I doubt it. Maybe if he was Sean Connery.
Me: Sean Connery? Sean Connery?
Mother proceeds to turn the tv up louder trying to drown me out.
Me: You have “daddy issues!” Sean Connery has gray pubic ha–
Mother: CARA JENNIFERSUE…LANGUAGE!
(I knew then, I was in deep shit and decided to keep mute on my lack of underwear praying that the possum didn’t kill me on the way back out. I really didn’t want my mom pissed at me if I was dead because I was counting on a custom Juicy Couture casket in a pale pale pink.)
CC: The Hoff is gross.
Me: The Hoff has Kitt, the most bad ass car ever. I bet if you did him, you could drive it.
Mother: You do realize that was a tv show, right? I knew that letting your brothers baby-sit you was a bad idea. It took me years to get you from wearing my stilettos and cut off jean shorts while trying to climb into the car window before pre-school.
CC: (crowing at the Senator’s still sharp memory) You’re such an idiot. Kitt is not real, JC or should I say, “Daisy?”
Me: Well, at least I’m not an old man lover.
CC: (huffs)It’s late! I’m leaving. I need to go to bed. Why didn’t you park in the driveway? Scared of mom’s possum?
Me: Shit. I saw that possum when I was coming in and chased it off. Little fucker! It ran around back towards the driveway.
CC: (flails herself back into armchair) NOOO! Don’t tell me that. I’m terrified!!
Me: I have no idea why. At least it has more gray hair than Sean Connery’s..
CC: (wails) How am I going to get to my car now?
Me: Leave it to me, big sister. All those hours of Dukes of Hazzard and The Fall Guy definitely come in handy.
So that is how, I and all of my
105 120 123.25 pounds walked out of my mother’s house wielding a Swiffer Sweeper over my head to defend my sister who is older, taller and quite heavier from a rabid possum.
My mother, on the other hand, opted to stay in the house and finish watching Dancing with the Stars. I guess she figured if both of us were killed by the possum that she could have The Hoff and Connery all to herself.