Yesterday was my Mother’s 65th birthday. Look, I can’t take my mom out to Las Vegas every year, so this year we settled on Bonfante Gardens, a flower and nature based “family theme” park. That means that half the people in attendance consisted of fathers holding video cameras and frustrated soccer moms, and the others were made up of three-to-six year olds, throwing temper-tantrums on why mommy and daddy didn’t love them enough to take them to Disneyland.
And, oh yeah, me and my Mom.
(Note to the LYD readers unfamiliar with “Ernie’s Mom” posts: italicized text means that she’s speaking in Mandarin. My mom speaks very little English, and let’s face it, the story is WAY less funny if I wrote this in only Chinese characters.)
Part 1: The drive to the park
Mom: You lost weight.
Me: *beaming* That’s right. I DID!
Mom: You have no color in your face, though.
Me: Eh!?
Mom: You have no color in your face. You lost weight, but what good is that when you spend your day all hunched up straining your eyes by looking at a computer monitor the whole day? Also, would it kill you to get some muscles? You know, MUSCLES.(Ernie briefly considers driving his car into a ditch. Decides not to, but only because he’s been there and done that.)
Part 2: At the ticket counter
Me: Two adults, please.
Mom: Why are you telling her that it’s two adults? I’m 65 now. I get a SENIOR DISCOUNT.
Me: Ma, I already gave my credit card to the lady.
Mom: (shouting through ticket window) NO TWO ADULT! ONE SENIOR!
Me: (Watches as the ticket counter girl rolls her eyes and re-bills my credit card.) Yer killing me, Mom.
Mom: I’m 65 now, I should get these benefits. Whenever I go on the bus, all I have to do is give the bus driver fifty cents. The bus driver comes up and I say to him FIFTY CENTS!! and he lets me on the bus, no problems at all.
Part 3: The thrilling park rides
Me: Here’s a nice ride we can go on. “Rainbow River.” You wanna ride boats, mom?
Mom: *shrug* Okay.(Ernie and Ernie’s Mom proceeds to wait in line for an hour. Apparently, the ADHD conference for six-year olds and their families were waiting with us. After an hour of taking distinct notes on what not to do if I ever became a father, we get on the boat ride. The boat ride lasts for 120 seconds, of course. Bitter and dissatisfied, we leave the boat ride and walk by the giant Mushroom Swing of Death.)
Me: Here’s a nice ride we can go on. “Mushroom Swing.” You wanna get hurled at high speeds in an unstable metal chair, mom?
Mom: How long is the wait time?
Me: 13 seconds.
Mom: *shrug* Okay.
Happy birthday, Mom. (She so doesn’t understand anything I wrote, though.