When Mom Lives Next Door

I'm currently living next door to my mom, where I'm catsitting for a month. It's a fun arrangement. I have my space. I have her kitchen. Plus, she's there for me to ask important questions like when do they pick up the trash when trash day falls on a holiday. And to loan me her lawn mower when the owners' mower won't start.

She's also there to notice if, say I were to die. Don't laugh. If you live alone, you know what I mean. Or maybe I'm just morbid. But from time to time I think, if I were to die here how long would it take for someone to notice. Standard question for the single adult, I think.

I learned the answer yesterday when mom called around 4pm to say that she noticed I hadn't picked up the paper yet and was everything okay. She'd seen me the day before, so it only took 24 hours for her to think maybe something was wrong and call. (Of course now that I think about it, I didn't answer the phone and she didn't come knock on the door. I'd have expected that before nightfall I think if I didn't return her call.) I was fine -- just lazy and hadn't left the house all day.

I've said for years that I would love to live next door to my mother, just not with my mother. Now I'm proving that to be true. It's the best of both worlds. (And it is incredibly scary that the Hannah Montana song just went through my head as I wrote that. If you don't know what I mean, be thankful.)

This morning I called Mom to ask about trash pickup and she asked if I was watching the Today Show. I wasn't. She said "U2 is on. Did you ever like them?" She said it with a funny tone in her voice, as if she was hoping I'd say no way. Rather I got excited. U2 is on The Today Show? I flipped it on to see. Then immediately started laughing. "Mom, it's the B52s." "Yeah," she said, "I told you." "No, Mom, you said U2." Very Different.

I liked the B52s back in the day and stood watching them for a bit. "They're weird," Mom said. "And I can't understand any of the words. I did get that the name of this song is Red Lobster. That's all I can understand though."

"It's Rock Lobster, Mom. Not Red Lobster. Rock. But don't ask me what it means. I have no idea. I agree they're weird. But fun weird." I bragged to her that the B52s are from Athens. "They're local." As if that would make her see their value. Then the camera showed a woman who could have been Mom rockin' out in the audience and we both started laughing. "That could be you, Mom." "Yes, I see that," she said.

After a bit, the conversation moved on to chicken. And lunch. She's cooking chicken. Which will become chicken salad. And she'll sautee some vegetables. Would I like to come over for lunch? Of course I would. Like I said, her kitchen is perk number one of this arrangement.

But she benefits too. "When you come, can you bring that fancy tweezer of yours? Mine is just not cutting it anymore."

Sure, Mom. I'll see you soon.