Friday 2:50pm
The phone rings at work and I answer it, seeing the call display number, but still ignoring the phychological shield.
It's my mother
I have people in my office, but I answer anyway.
Speaking in Serbian...but I'll do the accent, like they do in the movies when someone is really speaking another language:
Mom: "Sine (child), vat ar yu doink?"
Me: "I'm working, Ma"
Mom: "Lissen, I call to tell yu dat Dragica nos about a Doctor dat cud help yu to hev a baby".
Silence.
Me: "Thank you, Ma, but I'm done. My stepchildren are just now old enough that we don't have to deal with all the "little child" stuff. I can't start all over now.
Mom: "I vant to be a grandma".
Me: "I'm sorry, Ma. I just can't imagine starting from the beginning now. I'm tired".
Mom: "Bat, tis Doctor maybe kud help yu...he's Chinese Doctor. He fixing tings mit da hurbs. Dragica say he's very goot"
Me: "Ma, I'm at work."
Mom: "I no. I just tellink yu"
Me: "Thanks Ma, I'll call you later"
Mom: "I vant to be a Grandma"
Me: "I know, Ma".
Click.
Gimme a fucking break.
Sunday, January 19, 2003
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