Yesterday I went to lunch with my mother and my sister.  In the spirit of the event Perhaps I should repeat myself…YESTERDAY I WENT TO LUNCH WITH MY MOTHER AND MY SISTER.  You probably won’t believe it, but I even typed that slower.  It was like I was speaking to them.  I think I have mentioned before that hearing deficits run in my family.  Well, with these two they quit running and landed.  Mother is so deaf in one ear, hearing aids won’t even help.  She does wear one in the other ear, but swears it hasn’t been properly fitted (I happen to agree) and it should be returned to the company for repairs.  My sister, on the other hand, is in denial about the severity of her hearing loss.  She insists we just go on about how bad her hearing is to bug her.  I assure you we don’t.  She can’t hear herself pass gas.  I can’t imagine how these two have a conversation when no one else is around.  All the confusion swirling about must really create a fog.  I would imagine that afterward no one knows what has really been said, and I hope it was nothing of grave importance, but anyway…about lunch.

We went to eat at OK China Buffet.  My hubby and I love to joke about this place.  Mainly because they don’t over sell themselves.  Our running joke is “How was it?”   ” It was OK.”  “Ladies and Gentlemen the comedic stylings of Doombah and Sloopy Chickentush!”  (insert applause)  When we entered the first complaint was the giant statue in the foyer.  It has a sign on that says “Do no touch.  You break  You Pay”  and yes it says “no” and not not.  My sister had to point out that people should not put things that are that fragile in public places where children can see them and of course want to touch them.  It was then, that I noticed that my mother was touching it. (Small children my ass)  There are two doors off the foyer.  Above each door are signs that say…wait for it…in and out.  Wow!  My mom is standing there waiting for someone to come and get us, and getting angry that no one is.  I take her arm and  point out the “IN” door.  “We need to go in for the hostess to seat us, mom.”  As we move forward, she says back to my sister “Well, they could put up a sign or something.”

Now I have already mentioned the name of the place, right?  Buffet is in the name, right?  So we make our way to the table and the waitress asks us, in very broken English, what we would like to drink, and then leaves.  “Well, I didn’t get a menu.”  This from my mom.  “None of us did.”  This from my sister.  “It’s all buffet.  You don’t need a menu.  Just walk to the back and fix a plate.”  This from me.  We walk towards the back and I begin fixing my plate and I notice that mom is just sort of wandering around.  “Mom, whatcha’ doin’?”  “I’m looking for cashew chicken.”  “You may have to make it.”  “What to do you mean?”  “Well sometimes at buffet places they cook the chicken and the sauces separately so they don’t go mushy, and you have to put them together.”  “Well, if I have to cook, I might as well stay home.  I don’t even see anything that looks like it might end up being cashew chicken.”  “Well then, let’s ask someone.”  I proceeded to try and find someone, but alas I was not quick enough.  My mother had gone back to the table and cornered our poor waitress.  “Do y’all have cashew chicken?”  The poor girl looked like she was being mugged.  “Cashew chicken?” mom repeated.  Nothing.  “Chicken with nuts on it!!”, she practically screamed.  The girl shook her head no and ran…I mean ran, away.  “Mom, can’t you eat something else?”  “I reckon’ I’m gonna have to.”  Much to her surprise, she likes honey chicken.  Who knew?

At the table the fun really began, because that’s where the conversation (and trust me, that word is used in the most liberal form possible) took place.  “How’s your chicken?” “What?” “How’s your chicken?” ”It’s better than I thought it would be. It looked dried out.” ….enter sister “Well, it is fried.  They fry it and then they put the honey sauce and sesame seeds on it.”…  volley back to mom…”Oh.” Enter me “Mom you may want to put some soy sauce on your rice.  Be careful though, it’s salty.”  And she just starts glugging it over her rice. “Mom! You are drowning your rice! I told you it’s salty.”  “Well, if it’s too salty, I won’t eat it.  (pause)  It’s too salty.”  Deep inside me some inner child wanted so much to say “NO Crap?” but I held my tongue and just looked at my sister who is busy eating her crab rangoon, and I’m pretty sure is oblivious to the whole conversation. “I can’t believe they didn’t have cashew chicken.  I’ve never been to a chinese place that didn’t have cashew chicken.”  “I thought you liked the honey chicken.”  “I do, in fact I think I like it better than cashew chicken.  I’m just saying.”  I thought my head was going to explode.  I look at my sister.  Still chewing.  “Well mom, perhaps on the way out I should tell the manager that you have a request that they put cashew chicken on the buffet, even though you really prefer the honey chicken, you were really disappointed that you were forced to try something new.”  It was then that I got the mom face.  “Did I raise you to be a smart ass?”  Of course I erupted in laughter.  I just looked at her and said, “hell yes you did.  You and dad both did.  I didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of dodging the smart ass gene.  I knew these things from the beginning of my existence.  I was going to be short.  I was going to have blue eyes, and I was going to be a smart ass.  Everything else was up for grabs. ”  It was then that my sister looked up and said “what are you all talking about?”  Mom and I both started laughing then.  Even mom realized that she hadn’t paid one bit of attention to anything that had gone on prior to our outburst of laughter.  

I also have my dad’s hearing, so far.  Thank God.  My sense of humor is my own.  It’s kind of a combination.  My mother is kind of slapstick and dad’s was wellllllll,  let’s just say unique.  All in all it was an interesting Saturday afternoon.  And make no mistake dear ones, it took all Saturday afternoon.  When you are lunching with little old ladies it’s never just lunch, and lunch is always long.  My sister can turn eating into a marathon event.  I have seen her eat pie for days.  We went to lunch at two and I was home by six.  My sister was still at my mom’s when I left.  Life is good.  I tease about mom because I can.  We’re fortunate that she’s in such good health, other than her hearing, and she can’t hear us tease her about that.  I have already told my kids they won’t have that luxury.  If my hearing starts to go I am consulting every specialist available to me to have it restored.  I’m not letting those smarmy little beasts talk about me the way I talk about my mom!

 

1 Comment »

1. 

   Another home run, my dear. What’s not to love? Moms, sisters (of which we have more than our allotted quota), auditory deficits and a buffet of fried delights smothered in MSG.

   Comment by pms — February 24, 2009 @ 7:53 am

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