The Truth About Mom

Mom and I worked together on the book for a few months, but we also do many other things together. For example, yesterday she asked me to respond to a blog award she had received. This is what I wrote.

“Ok, here we go. I hope mom doesn’t read this, she promised not to…and since I can only count to five plus one, forgive me if the number of things is not exactly the right number according to all the rules:
•Mom is very old, I mean she must be. She has a grand-daughter. She is three and she loves me. We like sitting in the easy chair together.
•Mom calls me by so many different names that it’s easy to get confused (and get blamed for dementia), like “Pludi”, which apparently has something to do with Disney, “Liti” for small, and “Bumpy” which tells me she really can’t pronounce my name. Bumble – how difficult is that? She an immigrant, you know, so I forgive her.
•Mom likes to sit on the terrace and look out on the water. She usually reads and has a drink. I like to sit with her on the lounge chair and when she goes inside, I’ll try to taste her drink. Water with lemon? It’s anyone’s guess.


•Mom is addicted to her Kindle. She calls it “fire” but I don’t see any flames, just the hot pink leather covers. So maybe she means that there is fire inside? But where’s the smoke?
•Mom always says she’ll go to the gym, but most days she just plans to go. Planning is good, better than nothing, right? At least she goes on long walks with me when I plan them.
•Mom’s clothes are at least one size too small. Why do I say that? It is obvious. The treats that she can get into her pockets are far too few and far too small. If she wore right sized jeans, for example, the pockets would be much bigger, right?”

I don’t know if this was sufficient, but that’s all I had time to write. And there’s much more in my book.  Delicate details, not this flattering. Be good everybody!

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