What mom taught us..
05-08-2009, 11:36 AM
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I love my mother dearly as well, HOWEVER, there are certain moments (and statements) uttered by "Evangeline" that remain indelibly etched in my mind as if they occurred yesterday [and I left home to venture out on my own back in 1982].
My brother and I were such hellions growing up, it is surprising that dear old mom did NOT develop a drinking habit or did not seek asylum in an asylum. The 2 "cleanest" utterances I can share (after all this place is supposed to be rated PG) are:
"I'm your mother, I'm not dirt."
"You'll be sorry you treated me this way when I die of a heart attack."
My favorite mom story centered around the excessive amount of time I was spending with my first serious girlfriend (during my senior year of high school and my freshman and sophomore years at Pitt). Back in those days I had a particular penchant to let a certain part of my anatomy do my thinking for me (much hasn't changed in the intervening 27 years), and it was obvious to most, my parents included (though neither of them ever uttered "S-E-X" to me or bothered to give me "THE TALK" [hey, it was a different time back in the mid-late 70's]; and what I needed to learn about that part of life came from the street corner or by strategically parking in certain areas around the double screened drive in theater in our town to watch the XXX flicks always being shown on the one screen that faced away from the adjacent lake and State Highway] that I was spending a tremendous amount of time engaged the dance made famous in a song by Bob Seger, the "horizontal bop."
So, one day, as I was ready to go to my girl friend's house and this is my recollection of the dialogue between her and I:
MOM: So what are you doing tonight?
ME: Oh, I'm just heading over to [girlfriend]'s house.
MOM: Are her folks going to be there?
ME: Probably later . . . . I think they are out to dinner with some friends.
MOM: Is [girlfriend's] brother going to be at the house?
ME: No, he's got a sleepover at a friend's house.
MOM: Hmmmm, I see. You better be careful.
[NOTE: At the time, I knew precisely what she meant - DON'T MAKE ME A GRANDMOTHER - but I wanted to see whether I could get her to tell me to have safe sex, but because I was such a pain in the a$$ back in the day, I decided to play dumb. What follows is the rest of that conversation [to the best of my recollection].
ME: Ma, come on! [Girlfriend] lives 5 minutes away. Why are you telling me to be careful? I'm not driving cross country, I'm driving 2 miles up the road!
MOM: You just better watch out.
ME: For what, the cops? I'm not going to be reckless. I don't want to get a ticket.
MOM: That's not what I meant.
ME: What do you mean mom? Ohhh. I PROMISE I'll wear my seat belt while I'm driving . . . . . okay?
MOM: Quit being a smart Alec . . . . you BETTER BE CAREFUL BUDDY BOY!
ME: MA! Why are you breaking out the "buddy boy talk!" I'm always careful. It's [my brother] you should be worried about. Do you know he burned nearly half a tank of MY GAS in the Monte Carlo last night rolling over hell's half acre staying one step ahead of the cops? It's a game to him mom. I have respect for authority . . . but I guess that comes with being the first born, being expected to do all the right things, but never getting the credit or accolades for doing them.
MOM: He did what? - - - - Oh forget about your brother for a minute. Let's get back to you and being careful.
ME: Ma! Please stop! You know I'm always careful, and I've NEVER received a ticket for my driving.
MOM: T-H-A-T-'-S N-O-T W-H-A-T I M-E-A-N!
ME: Well, if you're not concerned about my driving, what the heck are you talking about?
MOM: [awkward silence]
ME: Ma! Spit it out! [with a huge Cheshire grin] What are you trying to say to me?
MOM: [more awkward silence] Well, ummm, you know, don't forget to take your raincoat!
ME: [trying to stop from laughing out loud and trying to act even more indignant] RAINCOAT? Did you say raincoat? Ma, there's not a cloud in the sky! It's as dry as a bone out there!
MOM: You know what I mean. BE CAREFUL!
ME: Ma! [now I am attempting to look angry] I have no clue in the world what on earth it is you are trying to tell me. Just come out with it . . . . WHAT IS IT?
The phone rings, my mom goes to answer the phone and promptly terminates our conversation. Whereupon I leave to go to my girlfriend's house with a smile on my face that hasn't been erased in all of the years thereafter.
Thanks Mom. Happy Mother's Day. I love you! By the way, are we ever going to have that talk?
My brother and I were such hellions growing up, it is surprising that dear old mom did NOT develop a drinking habit or did not seek asylum in an asylum. The 2 "cleanest" utterances I can share (after all this place is supposed to be rated PG) are:
"I'm your mother, I'm not dirt."
"You'll be sorry you treated me this way when I die of a heart attack."
My favorite mom story centered around the excessive amount of time I was spending with my first serious girlfriend (during my senior year of high school and my freshman and sophomore years at Pitt). Back in those days I had a particular penchant to let a certain part of my anatomy do my thinking for me (much hasn't changed in the intervening 27 years), and it was obvious to most, my parents included (though neither of them ever uttered "S-E-X" to me or bothered to give me "THE TALK" [hey, it was a different time back in the mid-late 70's]; and what I needed to learn about that part of life came from the street corner or by strategically parking in certain areas around the double screened drive in theater in our town to watch the XXX flicks always being shown on the one screen that faced away from the adjacent lake and State Highway] that I was spending a tremendous amount of time engaged the dance made famous in a song by Bob Seger, the "horizontal bop."
So, one day, as I was ready to go to my girl friend's house and this is my recollection of the dialogue between her and I:
MOM: So what are you doing tonight?
ME: Oh, I'm just heading over to [girlfriend]'s house.
MOM: Are her folks going to be there?
ME: Probably later . . . . I think they are out to dinner with some friends.
MOM: Is [girlfriend's] brother going to be at the house?
ME: No, he's got a sleepover at a friend's house.
MOM: Hmmmm, I see. You better be careful.
[NOTE: At the time, I knew precisely what she meant - DON'T MAKE ME A GRANDMOTHER - but I wanted to see whether I could get her to tell me to have safe sex, but because I was such a pain in the a$$ back in the day, I decided to play dumb. What follows is the rest of that conversation [to the best of my recollection].
ME: Ma, come on! [Girlfriend] lives 5 minutes away. Why are you telling me to be careful? I'm not driving cross country, I'm driving 2 miles up the road!
MOM: You just better watch out.
ME: For what, the cops? I'm not going to be reckless. I don't want to get a ticket.
MOM: That's not what I meant.
ME: What do you mean mom? Ohhh. I PROMISE I'll wear my seat belt while I'm driving . . . . . okay?
MOM: Quit being a smart Alec . . . . you BETTER BE CAREFUL BUDDY BOY!
ME: MA! Why are you breaking out the "buddy boy talk!" I'm always careful. It's [my brother] you should be worried about. Do you know he burned nearly half a tank of MY GAS in the Monte Carlo last night rolling over hell's half acre staying one step ahead of the cops? It's a game to him mom. I have respect for authority . . . but I guess that comes with being the first born, being expected to do all the right things, but never getting the credit or accolades for doing them.
MOM: He did what? - - - - Oh forget about your brother for a minute. Let's get back to you and being careful.
ME: Ma! Please stop! You know I'm always careful, and I've NEVER received a ticket for my driving.
MOM: T-H-A-T-'-S N-O-T W-H-A-T I M-E-A-N!
ME: Well, if you're not concerned about my driving, what the heck are you talking about?
MOM: [awkward silence]
ME: Ma! Spit it out! [with a huge Cheshire grin] What are you trying to say to me?
MOM: [more awkward silence] Well, ummm, you know, don't forget to take your raincoat!
ME: [trying to stop from laughing out loud and trying to act even more indignant] RAINCOAT? Did you say raincoat? Ma, there's not a cloud in the sky! It's as dry as a bone out there!
MOM: You know what I mean. BE CAREFUL!
ME: Ma! [now I am attempting to look angry] I have no clue in the world what on earth it is you are trying to tell me. Just come out with it . . . . WHAT IS IT?
The phone rings, my mom goes to answer the phone and promptly terminates our conversation. Whereupon I leave to go to my girlfriend's house with a smile on my face that hasn't been erased in all of the years thereafter.
Thanks Mom. Happy Mother's Day. I love you! By the way, are we ever going to have that talk?
05-08-2009, 11:45 AM
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Originally Posted by one4thethumb' post='872572' date='May 8 2009, 02:36 PM
I love my mother dearly as well, HOWEVER, there are certain moments (and statements) uttered by "Evangeline" that remain indelibly etched in my mind as if they occurred yesterday [and I left home to venture out on my own back in 1982].
My brother and I were such hellions growing up, it is surprising that dear old mom did NOT develop a drinking habit or did not seek asylum in an asylum. The 2 "cleanest" utterances I can share (after all this place is supposed to be rated PG) are:
"I'm your mother, I'm not dirt."
"You'll be sorry you treated me this way when I die of a heart attack."
My favorite mom story centered around the excessive amount of time I was spending with my first serious girlfriend (during my senior year of high school and my freshman and sophomore years at Pitt). Back in those days I had a particular penchant to let a certain part of my anatomy do my thinking for me (much hasn't changed in the intervening 27 years), and it was obvious to most, my parents included (though neither of them ever uttered "S-E-X" to me or bothered to give me "THE TALK" [hey, it was a different time back in the mid-late 70's]; and what I needed to learn about that part of life came from the street corner or by strategically parking in certain areas around the double screened drive in theater in our town to watch the XXX flicks always being shown on the one screen that faced away from the adjacent lake and State Highway] that I was spending a tremendous amount of time engaged the dance made famous in a song by Bob Seger, the "horizontal bop."
So, one day, as I was ready to go to my girl friend's house and this is my recollection of the dialogue between her and I:
MOM: So what are you doing tonight?
ME: Oh, I'm just heading over to [girlfriend]'s house.
MOM: Are her folks going to be there?
ME: Probably later . . . . I think they are out to dinner with some friends.
MOM: Is [girlfriend's] brother going to be at the house?
ME: No, he's got a sleepover at a friend's house.
MOM: Hmmmm, I see. You better be careful.
[NOTE: At the time, I knew precisely what she meant - DON'T MAKE ME A GRANDMOTHER - but I wanted to see whether I could get her to tell me to have safe sex, but because I was such a pain in the a$$ back in the day, I decided to play dumb. What follows is the rest of that conversation [to the best of my recollection].
ME: Ma, come on! [Girlfriend] lives 5 minutes away. Why are you telling me to be careful? I'm not driving cross country, I'm driving 2 miles up the road!
MOM: You just better watch out.
ME: For what, the cops? I'm not going to be reckless. I don't want to get a ticket.
MOM: That's not what I meant.
ME: What do you mean mom? Ohhh. I PROMISE I'll wear my seat belt while I'm driving . . . . . okay?
MOM: Quit being a smart Alec . . . . you BETTER BE CAREFUL BUDDY BOY!
ME: MA! Why are you breaking out the "buddy boy talk!" I'm always careful. It's [my brother] you should be worried about. Do you know he burned nearly half a tank of MY GAS in the Monte Carlo last night rolling over hell's half acre staying one step ahead of the cops? It's a game to him mom. I have respect for authority . . . but I guess that comes with being the first born, being expected to do all the right things, but never getting the credit or accolades for doing them.
MOM: He did what? - - - - Oh forget about your brother for a minute. Let's get back to you and being careful.
ME: Ma! Please stop! You know I'm always careful, and I've NEVER received a ticket for my driving.
MOM: T-H-A-T-'-S N-O-T W-H-A-T I M-E-A-N!
ME: Well, if you're not concerned about my driving, what the heck are you talking about?
MOM: [awkward silence]
ME: Ma! Spit it out! [with a huge Cheshire grin] What are you trying to say to me?
MOM: [more awkward silence] Well, ummm, you know, don't forget to take your raincoat!
ME: [trying to stop from laughing out loud and trying to act even more indignant] RAINCOAT? Did you say raincoat? Ma, there's not a cloud in the sky! It's as dry as a bone out there!
MOM: You know what I mean. BE CAREFUL!
ME: Ma! [now I am attempting to look angry] I have no clue in the world what on earth it is you are trying to tell me. Just come out with it . . . . WHAT IS IT?
The phone rings, my mom goes to answer the phone and promptly terminates our conversation. Whereupon I leave to go to my girlfriend's house with a smile on my face that hasn't been erased in all of the years thereafter.
Thanks Mom. Happy Mother's Day. I love you! By the way, are we ever going to have that talk?
My brother and I were such hellions growing up, it is surprising that dear old mom did NOT develop a drinking habit or did not seek asylum in an asylum. The 2 "cleanest" utterances I can share (after all this place is supposed to be rated PG) are:
"I'm your mother, I'm not dirt."
"You'll be sorry you treated me this way when I die of a heart attack."
My favorite mom story centered around the excessive amount of time I was spending with my first serious girlfriend (during my senior year of high school and my freshman and sophomore years at Pitt). Back in those days I had a particular penchant to let a certain part of my anatomy do my thinking for me (much hasn't changed in the intervening 27 years), and it was obvious to most, my parents included (though neither of them ever uttered "S-E-X" to me or bothered to give me "THE TALK" [hey, it was a different time back in the mid-late 70's]; and what I needed to learn about that part of life came from the street corner or by strategically parking in certain areas around the double screened drive in theater in our town to watch the XXX flicks always being shown on the one screen that faced away from the adjacent lake and State Highway] that I was spending a tremendous amount of time engaged the dance made famous in a song by Bob Seger, the "horizontal bop."
So, one day, as I was ready to go to my girl friend's house and this is my recollection of the dialogue between her and I:
MOM: So what are you doing tonight?
ME: Oh, I'm just heading over to [girlfriend]'s house.
MOM: Are her folks going to be there?
ME: Probably later . . . . I think they are out to dinner with some friends.
MOM: Is [girlfriend's] brother going to be at the house?
ME: No, he's got a sleepover at a friend's house.
MOM: Hmmmm, I see. You better be careful.
[NOTE: At the time, I knew precisely what she meant - DON'T MAKE ME A GRANDMOTHER - but I wanted to see whether I could get her to tell me to have safe sex, but because I was such a pain in the a$$ back in the day, I decided to play dumb. What follows is the rest of that conversation [to the best of my recollection].
ME: Ma, come on! [Girlfriend] lives 5 minutes away. Why are you telling me to be careful? I'm not driving cross country, I'm driving 2 miles up the road!
MOM: You just better watch out.
ME: For what, the cops? I'm not going to be reckless. I don't want to get a ticket.
MOM: That's not what I meant.
ME: What do you mean mom? Ohhh. I PROMISE I'll wear my seat belt while I'm driving . . . . . okay?
MOM: Quit being a smart Alec . . . . you BETTER BE CAREFUL BUDDY BOY!
ME: MA! Why are you breaking out the "buddy boy talk!" I'm always careful. It's [my brother] you should be worried about. Do you know he burned nearly half a tank of MY GAS in the Monte Carlo last night rolling over hell's half acre staying one step ahead of the cops? It's a game to him mom. I have respect for authority . . . but I guess that comes with being the first born, being expected to do all the right things, but never getting the credit or accolades for doing them.
MOM: He did what? - - - - Oh forget about your brother for a minute. Let's get back to you and being careful.
ME: Ma! Please stop! You know I'm always careful, and I've NEVER received a ticket for my driving.
MOM: T-H-A-T-'-S N-O-T W-H-A-T I M-E-A-N!
ME: Well, if you're not concerned about my driving, what the heck are you talking about?
MOM: [awkward silence]
ME: Ma! Spit it out! [with a huge Cheshire grin] What are you trying to say to me?
MOM: [more awkward silence] Well, ummm, you know, don't forget to take your raincoat!
ME: [trying to stop from laughing out loud and trying to act even more indignant] RAINCOAT? Did you say raincoat? Ma, there's not a cloud in the sky! It's as dry as a bone out there!
MOM: You know what I mean. BE CAREFUL!
ME: Ma! [now I am attempting to look angry] I have no clue in the world what on earth it is you are trying to tell me. Just come out with it . . . . WHAT IS IT?
The phone rings, my mom goes to answer the phone and promptly terminates our conversation. Whereupon I leave to go to my girlfriend's house with a smile on my face that hasn't been erased in all of the years thereafter.
Thanks Mom. Happy Mother's Day. I love you! By the way, are we ever going to have that talk?
What a great read!
Good to know I wasn't the only PITA kid!
05-08-2009, 11:52 AM
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Originally Posted by one4thethumb' post='872572' date='May 8 2009, 12:36 PM
I love my mother dearly as well, HOWEVER, there are certain moments (and statements) uttered by "Evangeline" that remain indelibly etched in my mind as if they occurred yesterday [and I left home to venture out on my own back in 1982].
My brother and I were such hellions growing up, it is surprising that dear old mom did NOT develop a drinking habit or did not seek asylum in an asylum. The 2 "cleanest" utterances I can share (after all this place is supposed to be rated PG) are:
"I'm your mother, I'm not dirt."
"You'll be sorry you treated me this way when I die of a heart attack."
My favorite mom story centered around the excessive amount of time I was spending with my first serious girlfriend (during my senior year of high school and my freshman and sophomore years at Pitt). Back in those days I had a particular penchant to let a certain part of my anatomy do my thinking for me (much hasn't changed in the intervening 27 years), and it was obvious to most, my parents included (though neither of them ever uttered "S-E-X" to me or bothered to give me "THE TALK" [hey, it was a different time back in the mid-late 70's]; and what I needed to learn about that part of life came from the street corner or by strategically parking in certain areas around the double screened drive in theater in our town to watch the XXX flicks always being shown on the one screen that faced away from the adjacent lake and State Highway] that I was spending a tremendous amount of time engaged the dance made famous in a song by Bob Seger, the "horizontal bop."
So, one day, as I was ready to go to my girl friend's house and this is my recollection of the dialogue between her and I:
MOM: So what are you doing tonight?
ME: Oh, I'm just heading over to [girlfriend]'s house.
MOM: Are her folks going to be there?
ME: Probably later . . . . I think they are out to dinner with some friends.
MOM: Is [girlfriend's] brother going to be at the house?
ME: No, he's got a sleepover at a friend's house.
MOM: Hmmmm, I see. You better be careful.
[NOTE: At the time, I knew precisely what she meant - DON'T MAKE ME A GRANDMOTHER - but I wanted to see whether I could get her to tell me to have safe sex, but because I was such a pain in the a$$ back in the day, I decided to play dumb. What follows is the rest of that conversation [to the best of my recollection].
ME: Ma, come on! [Girlfriend] lives 5 minutes away. Why are you telling me to be careful? I'm not driving cross country, I'm driving 2 miles up the road!
MOM: You just better watch out.
ME: For what, the cops? I'm not going to be reckless. I don't want to get a ticket.
MOM: That's not what I meant.
ME: What do you mean mom? Ohhh. I PROMISE I'll wear my seat belt while I'm driving . . . . . okay?
MOM: Quit being a smart Alec . . . . you BETTER BE CAREFUL BUDDY BOY!
ME: MA! Why are you breaking out the "buddy boy talk!" I'm always careful. It's [my brother] you should be worried about. Do you know he burned nearly half a tank of MY GAS in the Monte Carlo last night rolling over hell's half acre staying one step ahead of the cops? It's a game to him mom. I have respect for authority . . . but I guess that comes with being the first born, being expected to do all the right things, but never getting the credit or accolades for doing them.
MOM: He did what? - - - - Oh forget about your brother for a minute. Let's get back to you and being careful.
ME: Ma! Please stop! You know I'm always careful, and I've NEVER received a ticket for my driving.
MOM: T-H-A-T-'-S N-O-T W-H-A-T I M-E-A-N!
ME: Well, if you're not concerned about my driving, what the heck are you talking about?
MOM: [awkward silence]
ME: Ma! Spit it out! [with a huge Cheshire grin] What are you trying to say to me?
MOM: [more awkward silence] Well, ummm, you know, don't forget to take your raincoat!
ME: [trying to stop from laughing out loud and trying to act even more indignant] RAINCOAT? Did you say raincoat? Ma, there's not a cloud in the sky! It's as dry as a bone out there!
MOM: You know what I mean. BE CAREFUL!
ME: Ma! [now I am attempting to look angry] I have no clue in the world what on earth it is you are trying to tell me. Just come out with it . . . . WHAT IS IT?
The phone rings, my mom goes to answer the phone and promptly terminates our conversation. Whereupon I leave to go to my girlfriend's house with a smile on my face that hasn't been erased in all of the years thereafter.
Thanks Mom. Happy Mother's Day. I love you! By the way, are we ever going to have that talk?
My brother and I were such hellions growing up, it is surprising that dear old mom did NOT develop a drinking habit or did not seek asylum in an asylum. The 2 "cleanest" utterances I can share (after all this place is supposed to be rated PG) are:
"I'm your mother, I'm not dirt."
"You'll be sorry you treated me this way when I die of a heart attack."
My favorite mom story centered around the excessive amount of time I was spending with my first serious girlfriend (during my senior year of high school and my freshman and sophomore years at Pitt). Back in those days I had a particular penchant to let a certain part of my anatomy do my thinking for me (much hasn't changed in the intervening 27 years), and it was obvious to most, my parents included (though neither of them ever uttered "S-E-X" to me or bothered to give me "THE TALK" [hey, it was a different time back in the mid-late 70's]; and what I needed to learn about that part of life came from the street corner or by strategically parking in certain areas around the double screened drive in theater in our town to watch the XXX flicks always being shown on the one screen that faced away from the adjacent lake and State Highway] that I was spending a tremendous amount of time engaged the dance made famous in a song by Bob Seger, the "horizontal bop."
So, one day, as I was ready to go to my girl friend's house and this is my recollection of the dialogue between her and I:
MOM: So what are you doing tonight?
ME: Oh, I'm just heading over to [girlfriend]'s house.
MOM: Are her folks going to be there?
ME: Probably later . . . . I think they are out to dinner with some friends.
MOM: Is [girlfriend's] brother going to be at the house?
ME: No, he's got a sleepover at a friend's house.
MOM: Hmmmm, I see. You better be careful.
[NOTE: At the time, I knew precisely what she meant - DON'T MAKE ME A GRANDMOTHER - but I wanted to see whether I could get her to tell me to have safe sex, but because I was such a pain in the a$$ back in the day, I decided to play dumb. What follows is the rest of that conversation [to the best of my recollection].
ME: Ma, come on! [Girlfriend] lives 5 minutes away. Why are you telling me to be careful? I'm not driving cross country, I'm driving 2 miles up the road!
MOM: You just better watch out.
ME: For what, the cops? I'm not going to be reckless. I don't want to get a ticket.
MOM: That's not what I meant.
ME: What do you mean mom? Ohhh. I PROMISE I'll wear my seat belt while I'm driving . . . . . okay?
MOM: Quit being a smart Alec . . . . you BETTER BE CAREFUL BUDDY BOY!
ME: MA! Why are you breaking out the "buddy boy talk!" I'm always careful. It's [my brother] you should be worried about. Do you know he burned nearly half a tank of MY GAS in the Monte Carlo last night rolling over hell's half acre staying one step ahead of the cops? It's a game to him mom. I have respect for authority . . . but I guess that comes with being the first born, being expected to do all the right things, but never getting the credit or accolades for doing them.
MOM: He did what? - - - - Oh forget about your brother for a minute. Let's get back to you and being careful.
ME: Ma! Please stop! You know I'm always careful, and I've NEVER received a ticket for my driving.
MOM: T-H-A-T-'-S N-O-T W-H-A-T I M-E-A-N!
ME: Well, if you're not concerned about my driving, what the heck are you talking about?
MOM: [awkward silence]
ME: Ma! Spit it out! [with a huge Cheshire grin] What are you trying to say to me?
MOM: [more awkward silence] Well, ummm, you know, don't forget to take your raincoat!
ME: [trying to stop from laughing out loud and trying to act even more indignant] RAINCOAT? Did you say raincoat? Ma, there's not a cloud in the sky! It's as dry as a bone out there!
MOM: You know what I mean. BE CAREFUL!
ME: Ma! [now I am attempting to look angry] I have no clue in the world what on earth it is you are trying to tell me. Just come out with it . . . . WHAT IS IT?
The phone rings, my mom goes to answer the phone and promptly terminates our conversation. Whereupon I leave to go to my girlfriend's house with a smile on my face that hasn't been erased in all of the years thereafter.
Thanks Mom. Happy Mother's Day. I love you! By the way, are we ever going to have that talk?
The good ole days!I love you Mom
05-08-2009, 05:11 PM
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My Ride: 2008 535i Monaco blue/cream beige, light poplar trim, sport, nav, premium, Logic 7, 6 speed manual
My other rides:
Departed: 2006 530xi Silver gray/black, anthracite maple trim, cold, sport, nav, premium, Logic 7, 6 speed steptronic, bluetooth, adaptive xenons
Departed...2002 525i White/beige, 5 sp manual
My mom regularly threatened to "hang us up by our thumbs" 
I have no idea why.... 
I have no idea why....
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