balding angrily

Here’s the problem. Mom likes to say things but her tongue gets in the way, and I like to point out people’s faults.

I was 22 - just old enough to pretend that I could handle my liquor - and it was my sister’s birthday. Mom told Sister to choose any restaurant for her special birthday dinner. She chose Red Lobster.

Don’t get me wrong. I loves me some Red Lobster; their cheese biscuits are things of magnificent glory, but remember I was just old enough to play at sophistication. When I told Mom that Sister wanted Red Lobster - that she wanted to hand pick her lethargic protein item from a murky tank, a seafood ghetto - Mom gave me a look. Sister saw the look and said, “What? I want lobster!”

Acting as the designated gentleman, I held the front door for my family, confirmed that there was a wait, and took the drink orders. Mom and I had mixed drinks with enough alcohol in them to close our throats. It was as if our throats were doormen holding back of rowdy teenagers. And we, as the owners of the bar, had to pull the doormen aside to say, “Look. What’s the harm? Their money’s good.” Then when the teenagers get insde, they set fire to the DJ booth and rip the stuffing from the couch cushions. We had to will our throats to swallow. Sister had iced tea.

We enjoyed our meal for two reasons. Our waitress was exceptional, and Mom and I continued to swallow liver disease goodness from our glasses. When the waitress delivered the check I wanted to compliment her on her service.

“I just wanted to say that you did a wonderful job. Honestly. We had a wonderful time,” I said.

“Oh. I totally agree. Great job. Thank you so much,” Sister said.

Then as the waitress was clearing the last of the dishes Mom, waking from a stupor, lifted her head and said, “I just too had a good time.”

The waitress left, and I turned to Mom, closed one eye and said slowly, “You just too had good time?”

“I knew you were going to say something,” Mom said, growing red.

“I don’t know. I just thought you might want to explain what that statement means. Like JUST THEN, you had so good time? Or you had just so good time, in general?”

Mom made a pouty face and put her head down on the table with her arms and around her like a fort had the Spanish-American war been fought by salt and pepper shakers. The visible part of her head, the back, shook, and it took me a moment to realize that she was attempting to hide her laughter. Which started me laughing.

We sank in our seats, gasping and sputtering, and Sister looked at us in horror. The waitress came back to check on us, and turned on her heel when she saw the table was in a state of revolt.

Mom and I have apologized many times to Sister for that night.