Mommy Dearest

My mother can not make a decision to save her life. I will ask her if we can go out to eat on her day off, and instead of committing, therefore making a decision, she’ll say, “Well, I don’t know. We’ll see.” Often, that means yes. But sometimes, I want to murder her.

Today, I hadn’t eaten anything for breakfast, had burned tons of calories on the elliptical, and was waiting for her to get home from her hair appointment. It was 1 pm when she walked in, and I was famished. After some questioning, she agreed that she was too, and she said we could grab some fast food before my dad got home from work.

We got in her car, rolled down the windows (It’s hot, and our air conditioning doesn’t work that well. L) and she turned to me and said, “So what do you want?”

Now, when I’m this hungry, I find myself zoning out of reality. I don’t care what the food takes it’s form in, as long as it’s got protein, and it will fill my stomach. I say, “I don’t know, mom. I’m very hungry, and don’t want to decide. Perhaps, you can choose?”

She starts the car, but doesn’t move. A blank look spreads over her young face, and she looks back at me.

“Well, what are you in the mood for?” Oooh, she’s good. Asking the same question, but different enough that I’d look like a bitch for telling her so. I smile politely.

“Burgers?” I ask, just trying to get her to move the car. It’s 100 degrees out. I’m sweaty, hungry, and I want to go back to sleep. “We could try Sonic.” I know she loves the place, and it’ll be fast.

“I don’t know. I don’t want a burger.” She starts the game. The, “I don’t know what I want, but I sure know what I don’t want!” game. It drives my dad up the walls, and he often chooses places without asking now.

However, I’m going to play it cool. I don’t want to choose, and I’ve already told her that. So I smile again, and ask, “Mom, can you please start driving somewhere? I’m getting crispy.”

I guess that reminded her of French fries, so she backed out and started driving aimlessly. She raved on and on about how French fries sounded so good, how she just wanted some so bad, we should go somewhere with fries!

“Okay, mom. Anywhere with fries is good. McDonald’s, Wendy’s, Burger King, etc.” It can’t be that hard. She just wants some damn fries.

“No, I shouldn’t have any fries. They’re not good for my diet.”

I had no idea what to do. It was almost 2, and I had not eaten for the day. Finally, I snapped.

“Mother, make a decision. I already told you I didn’t want to make the choice. Just get me some food, PLEASE.”

We ended up eating at Panda Express.

I guess in some crazy mom universe, orange chicken is better for your diet than French fries.

However, tonight when she held me as the local kids lit off bottle rockets (the 24th is a holiday here, so it’s legal still), I realized that I didn’t care that she never made a decision. She’s still my mom, and I still love her.