Friday, September 18, 2015

Lightning Struck

Not too long ago, I told my mom I took the dog out for a walk between our frequent Midwest storms.
She said, "You shouldn't do that. You're gonna get hit by lightning."
Huh. "Mom, are you really worried I'll get hit by lightning?"

"Why, yes!" She punched it hard, emphasizing my naivete.

Just this week, I had a bout of nausea. Since the well eventually runs dry on things to talk to my mom about, I shared it with her. We love to share ailment stories.

She said, "I hope you're not having a heart attack."

Wha? After I pooh-poohed that idea, telling her I walk many miles four times a week, she replied, "Maybe you're walking too much."

Sigh. Still on the case, she followed up with, "Maybe you should take a suppository."
Gah! No thanks. As a child, suppositories had been one of my mother's favorite forms of torture hiding under the guise of "medicine." All the abominable "pills" ever did was make my stomach more upset and cause me a year's worth of humiliation. Never again. 

Of course my mom knows no better. After all, her parents fed her spoonfuls of kerosene (KEROSENE!) when she was sick.

Anyway. I come from a long line of worriers and negativity. If there's nothing currently wrong, my family will work hard to find something to worry about.

My grandmother was the same way. While I was in junior high, she lived with us. Every day I'd rush home, amped up that I'd survived another school day.

"Hi, Grandma," I'd say, "how was your day?"

"Long and boring. Can't see nothin', can't do nothin'. May as well be dead."

Buzz-kill, Grandma.

It's a can't win situation. At times, I find myself falling into the same hole. Quickly, I try to dig out. I know all too well how unpleasant it can be to hang around negative people. Daily, I struggle to look at the positive so as not to punish my loved ones.

So, the next time my mom hammers me with her usual diatribe, "The world's terrible, everything's going to pot, everyone's out to rip you off."

I'll respond with, "Yes, but at least we have twerking." Maybe I'll even demonstrate a little.

For something even more terrifying than suppositories, check out my newest book,  Ghosts of Gannaway


  1. Oh my goodness - please YouTube that demonstration!

    1. Kai, I'd rather not be responsible for a viral blinding.

  2. Good luck for the next go. And much success with your next book. Happy Weekend & Boogie Boogie.

  3. Sounds like my mom. While I have many of the aches and pains of age, if I mention ANYTHING to my mom, she'll tell me to lay down and rest, that I work too hard. Me? Work hard? Au contraire, mon mere!

    1. Just take a suppository, Marva. Cure for everything!

  4. I used to hate suppositories too when I was a kid. My oldest son fought me savagely when he was little not to get the cold sting up his butt.

    1. Heh. I'd like to see a show of cyber hands for anyone who ever liked suppositories, Suzanne. Um, maybe not.