Showing posts with label mama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mama. Show all posts

Monday, December 14, 2009

History repeats itself, family edition

The very first apartment I lived in when I was a kid was on the second floor. We had this large glass window from which you could see the cars driving into and out of the apartment parking lot. Everyday, as my dad would drive off to work, he would stop and wave back at my mom and I. I must have been no more than 3 or 4 at the time. One day, for whatever reason, my dad was in a rush and he drove off without waving. I remember crying and crying and left the living room. My mom, trying to minimize the situation, shouted "Danny, he came back he came back, run, run.." Of course, he hadn't driven back she was trying to make me feel better, but I remember feeling worse because I "missed" him a second time. Anyways, we have a bus stop right in front of our house. Now I usually walk everywhere but Adriana tires easy so she usually takes the bus. As she gets on, Eric always shouts out the front door (we have these little 'windows' on them, where the door is closed but there is an opening that allows you to see the street), "mãinha, mãinha" (mommie, mommie) and she waves back. Mãinha, by the way, is used mostly in the Northeast of Brazil, most everyone else just uses "Mãe", or 'mom'. Today for whatever reason she didn't turn back and Eric started to cry, thinking she didn't hear him, or whatever, but all I could think of was when I went through the same thing way back when. I almost thought of pulling the same "she came back" on him, but I remembered it made me feel worse that I had missed him so I just let it go. He forgot the whole thing in about 15 minutes, but it just made me remember that earlier incident.

Sunday, January 6, 2008

Right of Reply

I guess it wouldn't be a blog without controversy. It seems last week I may have been a bit hasty and took a bit too much poetic license when I said my Mom forwarded superfluous emails. She brought it up to me, and upon further review, I would like to retract some of those statements and publicly apologize. So here goes:
Mama, you are right, I was wrong, and I am sorry for making it seem like you forwarded silly spam emails. Sorry Ma, I love you, always have, always will.
Here is the note I got from my Mom:

To set the record straight; As a matter of fact, I'm the one (Danny's MAMA) who does NOT forward ANY Email until I check snopes.com. I NEVER have. That includes Mr. Kangaroo and Mr Green Jeans were war heroes through Obama does not salute the flag, to AOL will send 10 cents foe every Email you forward, to Bill Gates will share his fortune (I'm in math, remember? I know about GEOMETRIC PROGRESSION) to whatever. All my friends ask me if something is true or a hoax and have been doing it for YEARS. The jokes, yes, I admit I used to forward everything. Now I am choosier. You ARE getting old and beginning to forget and/or confuse things. I mean it! I may forgive you, Danny but only because you are my son and I love you.

Mama

Spoken like only a mother can do!!
Once again Ma, I love ya!!

Friday, January 4, 2008

Joke E-Mails

When my mom (Mama!! I love ya!!) first got her email and started to use the web, she would forward me every joke, every "help Johnny collect a world record number of business cards before he dies of (insert rare terminal illness here)", every "don't stick your fingers in the change slot of the pay phone, lest you prick your fingers with an AIDS infested pin", you guys get the point. I guess she was excited about having an email, and she only wanted to make me laugh, or be alert and careful, like any Mom. With time, she got better. A lot better. The quality of what she forwarded improved. Now, rather than roll my eyes, I can be sure that whatever she sent will be enjoyable, and most get a good laugh out of me. It may be silly, but this one made me laugh, so thanks Ma!!

The local news station was interviewing an 80-year-old lady because she had just gotten married -- for the fourth time. The interviewer asked her questions about her life, about what it felt like to be marrying again at 80, and then about her new husband's occupation. 'He's a funeral director,' she answered. 'Interesting,' the newsman thought. He then asked her if she wouldn't mind telling him a little about her first three husbands and what they did for a living. She paused for a few moments, needing time to reflect on all those years. After a short time, a smile came to her face and she answered proudly, explaining that she'd first married a banker when she was in her early 20's, then a circus ringmaster when in her 40's, later on a preacher when in her 60's, and now in her 80's, a funeral director. The interviewer looked at her, quite astonished, and asked why she had married four men with such diverse careers. She smiled and explained, 'I married one for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, and four to go.'